


Losing Faith

by Chereche



Series: Keeping Faith [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Bullying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6840343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chereche/pseuds/Chereche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to "Keeping Faith".<br/>In the aftermath of an attack, the Hudson-Hummel family must rally together to defend their most vulnerable member, Kurt. Can anything be done to help Kurt find himself again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to the Keeping Faith Verse. For returning readers to this series, I've tentatively decided upon three more stories to this verse. The first is this the prequel to the entire verse. Resultantly, Blaine is completely absent from this story (maybe a cameo?). The other two (both still in the concept stages) will be the alternative version of Maintaining Hope I mentioned last time and a post-Dalton story which takes Kurt to New York.

None of the shows on television, or even the conversations he had had with his teammates, had ever really warned Finn about the boring side to being in a relationship. Oh, don't get him wrong, there were parts of it he loved - especially the sex parts - but there were other things. Having someone look upon him as if he was the most important person in the world to them was one of the greatest feelings he had ever experienced for example, and, if he really thought about it, Finn was certain that he could come up with many other things. Nevertheless, there were moments when Finn wished that he could be like Puck and just have a series of friends with benefits or one night stands. That, he thought, might be a lot easier to deal with than him trying to pretend to listen to whatever it was Rachel was talking about now. He liked her, he could easily admit that. If he hadn't, he would not have risked social suicide to date her, especially not when he had had (and still could have) the queen of the school Quinn Fabray. But Rachel was different; yes she was self-centred and had an unhealthy obsession with golden star stickers, but, whenever he needed her, _truly_ needed her, she was there for him. He liked that, and it was why he had left Quinn for her. But now, when she couldn't shut up about whatever musical number she had seen and wanted him to duet with her...? He didn't like her quite so much and she talked too fast for him to even get in a word edgewise that could potentially turn the conversation into a more interesting direction, say about football, or hell, even food.

 

Finn actually had to pull her back when they got to her locker - she had actually passed it - and, without missing a beat, she opened it and started digging around, _still_ talking about the play. Finn resisted the urge to sigh as, to distract himself, he started looking around. Further down the corridor, he caught sight of a bright yellow shirt complimented by dark, patterned pants (and he was sure there was a name for that). Even if he had not seen the loud outfit himself that morning, he would have known it belonged to his stepbrother. He rolled his eyes; did Kurt really have to look like he stepped out of some sort of high fashioned magazine every morning? It made him look bad in comparison. He had seen the way his mother had cast a judgemental eye downwards to his now three weeks since last washed jeans. But hey, his jersey was clean! Well, at least it didn't smell and that at least meant something, right? Kurt was leaning against a locker with Tina as Mercedes rummaged through hers. Tina seemed annoyed by something if the way she was waving her arms meant anything, but then again, when wasn't there something that had earned the ire of Tina Cohen-Chang lately?

 

Finn saw what was about to happen before the trio did, and, even if he wasn't so far away, he honestly didn't know if he would have done something to prevent it. He and Puck had had this very conversation only a few days ago after Finn had barely dodged a slushie aimed (mostly) at his girlfriend. His reputation had taken a nosedive recently. Puck had managed to save his own reputation by successfully propagating the lie that he had been forced into the glee club as punishment, and the Cheerios in the group had only had to mention once that they were on a mission for Coach Sylvester to keep their social standing. But Finn's own status as the team's quarterback had not been enough to protect him from the ramifications of joining the Glee Club. Add that to his break up with Quinn and, unfortunately, the fact that the resident homo was his stepbrother (their words, not his), and Finn's own social status was often up in limbo. A stellar performance at the last game had redeemed him considerably, but dating Rachel had put that status back at risk again as well as the fact that people were starting to realise that Finn was starting to become a lot more protective of his step-brother.

 

Puck had had to hold him back after he had seen Azimo slam Kurt into a locker last week. Kurt had gotten up within seconds, and though slightly shaken, had immediately launched a verbal tirade on Azimo before stalking away, shoulders firmly squared. He had paid for that later on with a particularly nasty dumpster dive, but overall he had seemed okay. Finn had wanted to intervene then, or at least have told Azimo off. Insults were one thing, but that slam had to have hurt Kurt badly. Puck however had managed to talk him out of that. After all, he would lose all shred of respect within the school if it got out that he was now actively protecting Kurt. He would lose the ability to argue that he couldn't help it if Kurt was his family, and Puck, for all that they had been friends for years, would walk away if Finn made himself a target. Hell, Finn knew that Puck himself would probably initiate any slushie showers directed at him for punishment for breaking the status quo.

 

And, the quarterback didn't want that. Perhaps it was shallow of him to say, but he did like having the respect of those around him, and being the popular kid with girls whispering about him as he passed. And if that meant Kurt having to scrub off slushie from his clothes (and ouch the grape one stained the worst) then that was a sacrifice Finn was willing to make. He would make it up to him later, he told himself, as he allowed Rachel to take his arm and lead him away to their first and only shared class for the day. He'd treat Kurt to frozen yogurt at the shop not too far from their new house. Kurt would be okay; he knew how to take care of himself. He didn't have anything to worry about.

 

*

 

"You need to stop antagonising them, Kurt," Tina said tiredly from her spot on the counter. They were in the girl's bathroom, trying to help Kurt salvage the latest victim to the Neanderthals’ antics. Kurt didn't answer at first, too busy gently rubbing at the stain. They were more than prepared; he already had stain remover in his bag and Mercedes was currently getting a spare outfit for him that he had stashed away.

 

"I didn't do anything," he answered her, almost absentmindedly, as he turned on the faucet and ran the bit he was working with under the water. He breathed a sigh of relief as the product did its magic, leaving the area clean. Good, now for the larger stain...

 

"Then why did he target you today?" Tina pressed.

 

"His outfit," Mercedes said, entering the bathroom. "The shade of yellow isn’t exactly the same as your boots, but I figured this jacket would match, honey-boo."

 

Kurt looked up, taking in the paler yellow coat he hadn't even remembered he had at school. But then again, he tended to just add clothes randomly ever so often for just such an emergency. "It'll work," he said decisively, "Thanks Cedes."

 

"I passed Karofsky on the way back," Mercedes said, darkly. "Apparently your outfit is too fabulous for them."

 

Kurt looked at her briefly, smiling at her wording of it. Leave it to his friend to spin a positive out of what they had stated. He knew he really should stop dressing so extravagantly; if he tried being normal and blending in, they probably would indeed, as Tina suggested, leave him alone a lot more. But why should he, he thought darkly, briefly scrubbing a bit too hard at a spot. Why did he have to change how he wanted to represent himself? It wasn't his fault that no other male in the school had fashion sense above that of a doorknob. Why should he be punished for that?

 

"I just think you should be a bit more careful, Kurt," Tina told him. "They're targeting you a lot more now. Don't think I didn't notice how you winced in practice yesterday. You're still sore from the last time they locker slammed you."

 

"I'm fine," he said, with finality as he straightened, shaking water off his sweater. "There, perfect."

 

"Good," Mercedes said, reaching for it. "Now go get changed and we can head to class."

 

He nodded, only then grimacing as he realised that the inner shirt he was wearing was also covered by seeped through slushie. He didn't have as much as an attachment to the shirt though; it was one of those five for twenty dollar deals type of clothing that he didn't mind just disposing off. Actually, he had started wearing such inner shirts for this very reason and, as he took the clothing from where Mercedes had left it, he gave her a grateful smile as he saw that she had had the foresight to pick up one of them for him as well.

 

"This can blow dry right?"

 

"Yeah," he answered, as he headed into one of the stalls. It wasn't for their benefit really; truth be told they had seen each other in various stages of undress by this point, one of the benefits of being a gay guy friend, he supposed. However, there was actually something he had to hide from them now. He didn't want Tina to see exactly how right she was.

 

Kurt hissed as he eased the shirt off himself, and, after a brief check, the vest as well. Wiping the sticky residue from his chest, he restrained a whimper as the gesture pulled on sore and bruised muscles. They didn't know that that locker slam had not been the only abuse he had experienced recently. Looking into the small mirror the stall had, Kurt winced as he took in the bruises, and scrapes alongside his torso from the day before. If only Tina knew how bad the situation really was becoming. But then again, what did it matter, he thought, pulling on his shirt and starting to button it.

 

It wasn't as if there was anything anyone could do about it.

 

*

 

Kurt huffed out an annoyed sigh as he checked his watch yet again. Where was everyone? It wasn't as if he had misheard the message. Mr. Shuester had given it to him after all just that morning to pass along. He had booked the auditorium for practice and they should all meet there for three thirty. He huffed again, annoyed that today of all days he didn't have any afternoon classes with any of the other club members. Maybe something had happened to change the venue? Biting his lip in agitation as a next minute passed, Kurt decided that he should not waste this opportunity. Even if practice had moved, it wasn't his fault he wasn't wherever the hell the rest of them were. Someone would eventually come find him and there was no need for him to waste time in the interim. It took only a brief effort to pull himself up onto the stage, and he dusted his hands off after the effort it took. He may not be the fittest guy in the school, he acknowledged, but he was getting better by mimicking Finn's home workout routine. Just that morning he had been pretty certain that when he flexed he had actually seen muscle.

 

The auditorium was empty, but Kurt's imagination was vivid. Looking out he saw faces staring back at him, heard the anticipatory murmur of the audience as he strode to the stage's centre. This was a particularly auspicious performance after all, his five hundredth in a role that had catapulted him into Broadway stardom. There were many trying to lure him away from this, his breakthrough role, for other opportunities, but he had committed himself for a next year to this production. After all, he had to pay his dues to the show that had given him this great start. Kurt bowed in deference to the warm applause his mere presence had gotten him, and allowed his eyes to gaze upon the stage, not seeing its stark bareness but instead carefully crafted props and furniture that served as his artificial home. This was it, the main song of the show, the one that had the critics buzzing about a possible award nomination. Allowing his eyes to drift close, Kurt sang confidently to his audience, as always trying to convey believable emotion on his face even if he didn't personally connect with the song (it was something he would never admit, but he did envy Rachel's ability to commit to a song one hundred percent no matter what it was about). In his mind he had succeeded because, as he finished it, the audience was on their feet, giving him a thunderous round of applause. He bowed, flicking back a bit of his hair from out of his face as he straightened and finally, focussed his senses again. It was why he was shocked to find someone there with him, an actual real person, and not one seated in the chairs, but there on the stage with him. He was moving towards him, swiftly, and Kurt acknowledged that if he had not been so wrapped up in his performance, he might have seen him before, or at least heard him, because Karofsky certainly was not being quiet as he approached him.

 

Kurt didn't hesitate; the jock’s expression was murderous and maybe, he realised, he had pushed him just the slightest bit too far that lunchtime when, after the third slushie for the week, he'd asked rashly and loudly in the middle of the crowded corridor if the guy had a hard-on for him. The laughter that had echoed down the corridor at that had been vindicating for him, especially when Karofsky and his pals had slunk away in embarrassment. Oh, he knew that they would want revenge. Tina had hissed as much to him after she had found out, but he hadn't cared then.

 

He certainly did now.

 

He turned to run. He had no chance against him, and here, in the lonely auditorium, there was no one who could possibly intervene to help him. But, as he spun, he saw Adams coming out of the stage wings and he knew it was over. They were faster than him, burlier, and he cried out as one of them tackled him to the ground. Kurt fought wildly, scraping and twisting as they punched and kicked him yet again, worse than ever before. He cried out and then briefly stilled as one of their feet landed with an extra hard thud against his ribcage and he felt, actually felt something crack. The pain took his breath away but after a second, he fought back harder, now in an increased panic; they really didn't care how badly they hurt him this time around, and fear was taking over. Kurt was afraid, deathly afraid for his safety, and that spurred him on. To his shock he actually got a bit of ground. His knee connected with Adams's groin and the jock fell off him with a painful groan. He lashed out at Karofsky, startling him by catching him in the eye, drawing a howl from him. Frantically, and ignoring the pain lacing through him, Kurt tried to scramble away. But he was even more incapacitated now than before, and was quickly brought down. His eyes widened in terror as, seemingly from nowhere, Karofsky pulled something out of his pocket that glistened above him. Kurt screamed, loudly, because god, was that a knife, an actual _knife_? Karofsky struck down, but, out of pure reflex, Kurt twisted away from it. The crazed jock started slashing wildly at him, and Kurt's shrieks only got louder as he felt the stinging cuts. Then, as if in a rage, Kurt saw Karofsky raise the knife, and this time he seemed intent on going for his face. The knife descended, and Kurt desperately flung his arm up defensively.

 

His pained scream echoed in his own ears as pain, pure burning pain poured forth from his arm alongside blood. His world narrowed down to that pain. It was too much, all of it, and his focus on the world slowly faded. He didn't hear Finn's frantic yells, didn't note the hard kick Finn directed at Karofsky's head even as Adams scrambled away, a slightly panicked look on his own face, because Dave had not mentioned anything about a knife to him. He didn't hear the cries of alarm from Rachel who had decided to follow Finn to fetch Kurt, nor did he see her run out to go for help. He did register Finn though, a terrified looking Finn who had now lifted him up so that his head was cradled on his lap even as he tore off his own jersey to press against Kurt's arm which, he didn't even know, was bleeding profusely. It was weird he thought as his head turned a bit at he took in a view of the stage, now stained with blood - his blood.

 

Everywhere ached and hurt, and he wasn't certain if those guttural noises were really coming from himself as well as the moisture on his cheeks. But, when he finally decided to take the respite his body wanted and faded into unconsciousness, he couldn't help but notice that the pain on his arm had entirely gone away.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Burt had never felt so tired and so goddamn old in his life. Well, he briefly amended, maybe he had felt similar on the day he had lost Elizabeth, but that had been different. He had had forewarning then, had known it was coming, and so had had time to brace himself for the inevitable. But this? Was there any way for a father to prepare himself for an attack on his baby boy?

"I knew something was wrong as soon as I heard Finn's voice," he said, his voice hollow to his own ears.

He was in some sort of office at the hospital - he wasn't exactly sure where, and, he honestly couldn't remember being brought here. He wasn't alone, there was a slightly overweight sergeant in the room with him, a man of exceptional patience if the fact that he hadn't interrupted Burt's quiet contemplation was anything to go by. "I've never heard that sort of panic in Finn's voice before. I don't want to ever hear it again," he added, his voice cracking a bit as he ran his hand over his baldhead. It was a left over gesture from when he had sported a full head of hair, and it often drew a snicker from Kurt whenever he inadvertently made the gesture. He had come so close to losing his boy. What if he had been robbed of the chance to see his son's teasing face again?

The officer, Richard Stell, remained silent. Burt knew that the man was mostly just here to keep his company. After all, what was there for him to add? Finn had already been interviewed - and boy did the sight of Kurt's blood all over Finn caused Burt's knees to weaken. Stell had sent out someone to talk to Rachel who had not been allowed onto the ambulance. Carole had taken Finn to get his hand bandaged - his knuckles were busted - and Burt was pretty much useless since Kurt was still in the surgery room as they righted his broken ribs and dealt with his stab wounds.

"Finn's not going to be in any trouble, right?" Burt asked, looking up at the man. "It's self-defence?"

For the first time in a while the man spoke, his voice reassuring. "We've already confirmed that Finn's actions saved his step-brother from further harm. No criminal charges will be laid against him. And, off the record, I'll say that he showed a hell of a lot of restraint, given the circumstances."

Burt nodded, a bit of weight lifting on him. He didn't know how he could handle Kurt being hurt and Finn being in trouble for saving him.

"I would keep an eye out on Finn though," the man added.

"Why?" Burt asked, gratefully latching on to that train of conversation. It saved him from drifting back into the last time he was here with someone he loved as an actual patient.

The officer cleared his throat before responding. "From my conversation with Finn, it's clear to me that he holds himself responsible for this happening. He said that he failed to protect Kurt, and from what I see, he truly believes this."

"He saved him," Burt counteracted. “Why would he think that?"

"The fact is, he believes it," the man responded, "and that's worrisome for me. I do believe that there is more to this situation, and we'll uncover the truth as time goes along, but I just want you to know that you should keep an eye out for both your boys."

"I will," Burt promised. "I think I heard someone mentioning something about a counsellor earlier. Wasn't really listening."

"It's standard procedure for trauma victims and their families," he explained. "The state provides for counselling as long as it's necessary. It's not the most pleasant thing, believe me, but it helps keep everything in perspective."

"Been there a lot?" Burt asked, half-joking.

The man chuckled, but nodded. "When you've been on this job as long as I have, and seen the things I have, a lay on a couch ever so often is just what the doctor ordered to keep you sane."

*

"Not all of his injuries are fresh,” Carole said gravely, her face taunt as she dropped down into the free seat beside Burt before looking toward Officer Stell. “Doctor Timothy said that he'll have a full report for you by the morning but...there's bruising and cuts on Kurt that are a little less than a week old."

Burt stiffened beside her. "He's been hurt before this?" he asked, his tone a bit strained, and, if it was not for the knowledge that Kurt still had not been moved to a hospital room, Carole knew that the man would have already been out the door to see for himself. She could understand it; she herself felt horrible. How had Kurt been that badly bruised without her noticing? Even with the distraction of clothing, moving around could not have been that easy for him. How had he managed to keep his signs of discomfort hidden from them all, but more importantly _her_ , a medical professional?

"Perhaps that is what Finn meant?" the officer deduced, glancing toward them, "his guilt?"

Carole sunk back into her seat, recalling Finn's broken words earlier. "Finn would have said something," she countered. "It’s bad. He would not have kept that a secret even if Kurt had asked him to."

"Does Kurt have a history of being bullied?"

"They both do," Burt answered, his voice dull, "in different ways yeah, but they both do. Never physical. At least, they never told us about anything physical?" he finished, a questioning lilt to his tone as he looked toward his wife who shook her head in agreement.

"We've been to that school more times than we can count," she explained, looking at the man, "and we keep getting a run-around. It started for Finn after Burt and I married, but for Kurt..."

"Kurt's always had it tough," Burt finished. "High school hasn't been kind to him. He's the only gay boy fully out in a town where that just isn't accepted. Not that he's ever had the chance. Everyone knew he was gay before Kurt even knew what he was himself, and things have always been tough for him because of that. But he's always told me - told us - when things are too much. Hell, I nearly took a flamethrower to that damn middle school when he came home with a black-eye once. If someone's been hurting him, why didn't he just come to us?"

"It's hard to understand why teenagers don't always come forward when they're in trouble," the officer explained. "Shame? Fear? It's tough to say."

"Nothing came of what happened in freshman year," Carole added sadly. "Maybe that triggered it?"

"Someone threw pee-balloons at him and defaced his locker," Burt explained for the man's benefit. "It got linked to a couple of hockey players, but despite all the evidence they got away with one shoddy detention and we had to bear the costs to repair the locker. I know Kurt was really bummed about it...but could that be why...? Do you remember him telling us about anything significant after that?" Burt asked his wife, his voice now slightly panicked. How could he not have noticed until now? Kurt really had been holding things back.

"We'll do our best to sort this out," Stell intervened, trying to cut off Burt's growing panic. "I swear to you that this time Kurt will get justice. So you just focus on your sons and leave the rest to me, okay?"

"We'll do that," Carole promised, resting a calming hand over Burt's slightly larger one. "You have your part to play, and we have ours. Right Burt?"

"Yeah," he agreed gruffly, looking down at where their hands were joined, "let's just focus on bringing our boys home okay for now."

*

Finn wasn't happy that he had been sent home, but it was understandable. There really was no need for all of them to be at the hospital right now, and besides, he had answers he needed to get. He had not called anyone, mostly because he could not trust his voice to do so. There were many missed calls and messages to him, mostly from the glee club, but also a few from persons lambasting him for betraying Karofsky. Yeah, lambasting. People that stupid existed. Finn almost tossed his phone out the window at that, especially when he noticed a passive aggressive message from Puck, but he restrained himself. He needed information, and Kurt's friends were the best to get it from.

While he waited, hoping that they would forgo asking for irrelevant information, he stalked into Kurt's room, holding a hastily emptied book bag, because there was no way he was going to waste time trying to source a suitcase from the attic. Besides, Kurt was not going to be there long enough to need a suitcase, he told himself. As he reached for the top drawer of Kurt's dresser, Finn froze, staring down at his trembling fingers. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. He wasn't even supposed to be in Kurt's room without permission, not after he had accidentally broken some expensive jar of cream while looking for a spare notepad he could use. If Kurt knew that he was going to surpass that crime and actually rifle through his clothing, he would...he would...do nothing. Because he couldn't since he was trapped in the hospital. Finn didn't know when the book bag slipped from his hand, but he did know when he joined it on the floor, wracking sobs shaking his frame.

They had attacked Kurt. They had kicked him, punched him, stabbed him. He had almost been too late. What if he hadn't had that uneasy feeling? What if he had just gone along with Rachel's furious whisper that it was Kurt's own fault for being stubborn and just not trying coming back to the choir room when he realised that no one was coming to the auditorium? Karofsky had been hell bent on murder, Finn had seen it in the hatred on his face and the ferocity of his strikes. And god the way Kurt had been screaming. Finn knew that those screams would haunt him for the rest of his life.

And, it didn't need to happen. None of that had needed to happen. If only he had listened to his conscience and intervened Kurt would have been fine. Why did he ever think that his popularity meant anything? Why had he even hesitated? Protecting his brother should have been his priority and he had made it an easily ignorable option. And now Kurt was paying for it. Finn rolled over, pulling his knees up so that he could bury his face into it.

He could see it still, the pure look of fear in Kurt's eyes, the blood that he could still see despite the number of times he had washed his hands. He had failed his little brother so badly, and there was no way around that.

Nearly half an hour later, when Finn had no tears left to shed, he lifted his head, letting it thud back painfully against Kurt's dresser.

He would redeem himself, he promised. He would not fail Kurt again. From now on he would protect him from everyone and everything.

No one would ever cause him pain again.

*

"Officer Stell told me that there's reporters in the hospital," Carole said as she crossed the hospital room to where Burt sat, his gaze fixated on his son. Save the steady beeps of the machines attached to him, the room was otherwise silent. Nearly two hours ago Kurt had been assigned to this room, and since then Burt had been here, trusting his wife to deal with all of the paperwork that needed to be done.

"We're not talking to anyone," Burt responded flatly, "not now."

Carole nodded. "I told him as much," she whispered, pulling the second chair in the room closer before sitting in it, reaching out to take Burt's hand into hers. She followed his gaze to wear Kurt was, poor precious Kurt who now seemed far too young and far too vulnerable.

Doctor Timothy, at her request, had been candid with her. Kurt's condition was no longer as grave as it had seemed to be initially. One of his ribs had indeed been broken but there had been no real risk for a lung puncture. Shifting it back into place had been a simple enough task. There was nothing more to be done for it, or the other three that had been fractured past bandaging Kurt's torso carefully. His movements would have to be restricted for a few days, and they could only hope that the pain medication would be enough to dull the worst of the pain, but his ribs would heal. Save the wound on his arm, a deep jagged cut that had required the most attention given its area, the rest of his stab wounds were largely superficial, most of them glancing cuts. Kurt had protected himself pretty well overall, she acknowledged. His bruises - even the ones he had received previously – overall just needed time to fade. There were ointments they could use to fasten the healing time, but it really just was a waiting game.

By the doctor's summation, past any unforeseen circumstances, Kurt could be home in two or three days and physically would be fully healed within five to six weeks, a benefit of youth, she supposed. His mental state on the other hand...that was a cause for concern. Kurt was a strong boy, she knew that, but everyone had their limits. What if this was his?

The dreary thought had her laying her head against Burt's shoulder seeking comfort. She could not even muster a semblance of a smile when his lips brushed against her hair.

In silence they sat there, looking at their son, both wishing that there was a way that they could take on his pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Carole fiddled with the thin sheet around Kurt's waist just to give herself something to do. Kurt’s room was quiet now, so quiet that she could hear his soft intakes of breath. She reached up to gently brush a few stray hairs off the boy’s forehead, before, giving into temptation, bending down to place a kiss on the spot she had cleared. Kurt seemed so at peace now, and taking in his slumbering veneer, she would never have believed that he would have been shrieking and flailing wildly hours before had she not been there to see it for herself.

It should have been a moment of celebration, those precious few minutes in which they first realised that yes, Kurt’s nose was twitching, and yes he was starting to move ever so slowly, indicating that he was waking up. They had been looking forward to that moment when Kurt’s eyes opened, granting them a view of those beautiful orbs of his after what had seemed like forever. Nevertheless, any joy she and her husband had felt quickly vanished as Kurt screeched. In hindsight, Carole’s experience in medical care gave her insight into what had happened. Disoriented, and perhaps still trapped in the thrall of memories, Kurt had reacted badly to seeing his father. She was pretty certain that Kurt had not realised that it was Burt; indeed, he had probably just recognised the large frame of a man looming over him and that had caused him to panic.

Burt, though, could not be expected to understand that though. Indeed, he had fled the room, leaving Carole to fight off the urge to follow him and ensure that he was okay. It had been a painful choice, but at that moment, it was clearly evident that Kurt required her care more in that moment. Kurt’s panicked shrieks had faded immediately once Burt had left the room, but the heartbreaking whimpers that took their place was even worse in her opinion, and, if it would not have aggravated his injuries, Carole would have crawled into the bed to cuddle him. Instead she settled for talking softly to him, trying to help keep him calm enough until the help she requested arrived, and they made the executive decision to sedate him for his own safety. 

Looking at him now, Carole acknowledged that her protective instincts had not receded at all. But, she knew she had other responsibilities to deal with. With a last adjustment to his sheet, Carole forced herself away from his bedside, only to pause near the door, to shoot a last speculative glance toward her second son. Something niggled at her memory, and briefly she allowed her mind to linger over Kurt’s body while he had been flailing. Something was not quite adding up, but, for now, Carole was willing to let it go as a weird occurrence or perhaps just an unfortunate trick of her eye.

*

Burt flicked off the television with a sigh of relief. It seemed that so far the hospital and the police were sticking to their word. Save mentioning Kurt’s name, the story was largely generic and the stance on it neutral, something he was tremendously grateful for. He wished that he could be as grateful toward the community at large, but that was not the case. The house phone was currently off the hook because the influx of calls was not only annoying, but also, in the case of a lot of them, extremely offensive. The first thing he would do in the morning was get the number disconnected. After all, anyone that truly mattered already had access to their cell numbers. He would be damned if Kurt came home to abuse in his own home.

He was feeling a bit better now, or rather, the sting of his pain had been largely soothed. The shrink had done her job, and he could see why it was recommended that trauma victims and their families talked to them. Burt paused at that last thought, shaking his head. He was family to a trauma victim. It took a minute for that to fully sink in. He knew that he had to go back to the hospital, but frankly he needed a few more hours before he dared to do so and he knew that his wife would not mind. Carole was with Kurt, Finn was asleep upstairs and he needed to remind himself that he had given up drinking anything stronger than a beer ever since Elizabeth had agreed to be his wife. Even now he could hear Kurt's shrieks, could see the pure fear in his eyes, and it was far too tempting to see if he could forget that particularly memory by reaching the bottom of an alcohol bottle. 

Karofsky and Adams were lucky that they were safe in a jail cell right about now, because if he could get his hands on them...

Burt's eyes moved to the mantle and his eyes lingered on an old picture, back when Kurt was about four or five years old. He stood beside a laughing Elizabeth, his beautiful, gentle first wife...who would never, circumstances be damned, approve of vengeance. After all these years she still had a hold on him, Burt thought with a hint of sadness as the anger drained from him. But if he could not at least dream of revenge, what the hell could he actually do?  
Sighing, he got up, deciding that he would head up to Kurt's room and tidy up a bit. Finn had already sent a few of his things to the hospital, but he was sure that Kurt would be happy to come home to clean sheets. Maybe that fancy one he had bought over the summer? This counted as a special occasion for its use right? Burt shrugged as he fetched it out of the bedding cabinet regardless. The most that would happen was Kurt being annoyed with him, an expression Burt would love to see on his face. He would pass for some flowers as well, he decided as well as he headed down the hall. He'd definitely like that. 

Burt's footsteps faltered as he passed Finn's bedroom door. It only took a few seconds to verify what he was hearing and Kurt's bed sheets were on the floor as he opened the door, his heart clenching as he saw Finn bent over his desk, his head thudding painfully against the wood repeatedly, his phone, still lit, a few inches away from him.

"You're going to dent the desk, buddy," Burt said gruffly as he dropped a hand to his shoulder, urging him to sit up. Finn did, and Burt's worry increased as he saw the tormented expression on his step-son's face, a cross between guilt, sadness and terror.

"You should hate me," Finn croaked out, his voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, hey, hey," Burt began, "What's this about son?"

"I didn't know it was so bad, Burt," Finn explained, "but I knew that all wasn't right and I didn't do anything about it. And now look what happened to Kurt. It's my fault. You should hate me."

Burt didn't answer for a moment. Instead, he released Finn so that he could sit on the edge of the nearby bed for the sake of his back. This promised to be a long conversation. 

"You knew Kurt was being bullied, didn't you?" Burt asked, keeping all traces of judgement out of his tone. He wasn't angry at his step-son despite what the teenager seemed to think. Officer Stell had the right idea, teenagers often held secrets even if the reasons seemed nonsensical.

"I didn't know it was this bad," Finn told him. "We all get bullied Burt, but never more than slushie attacks and maybe a few shoves. And well, the insults of course. I saw Kurt get pushed into a locker but he seemed fine. I never knew he'd gotten beaten up, but it doesn't matter now. I should have said something from the time they started shoving him into lockers."

"How do you know Kurt got beat up?" Burt asked. "And you’ve been bullied too?"

"Most of us glee kids have been," Finn corrected, "but we just keep our heads down and stay out of their way, you know?"

He could understand that. Burt would be a liar if he said that he had been a saint in high school. He'd wreaked havoc on his fair share of geeks and he understood the idea of a high school social hierarchy. He didn't really understand how the glee club had fallen so low as to be near the bottom of the pecking order though. They'd been pretty popular back in his school days. 

"Has anyone ever hurt you?" he inquired.

"No," Finn said. "Well, I've gotten tackled a bit too hard in practice sometimes, and I've managed to dodge a few slushies, but never really hurt Burt. I swear."

"I believe you," Burt reassured. "Now you said Kurt got beat up?"

"Mercedes just told me," Finn said, gesturing vaguely to his phone. "What happened is the talk of the school. This AV kid - Ben Israeli - he's boasting about a video he shot from Monday. It shows Adams and Karofsky beating Kurt up in a corridor. She said she'll forward it to me."

"And I'll forward it to Officer Stell," Burt said darkly. "That would account for the older injuries on him," he added, mostly to himself.

"I should have protected him better," Finn said sadly. "I knew something was wrong and I didn't do anything."

"Hey," Burt said, reaching over to put a hand on his knee, "you can't blame yourself for this Finn. If you want to blame someone, blame those two for what they did to Kurt. You saved him; I don't think Kurt would be alive if you hadn't gotten there," Burt admitted, and his voice cracked on that, "so let's focus on that okay? Kurt is alive and will be okay."

"It's hard," Finn admitted, "so hard."

"I know," Burt agreed, "but you're not alone in this. We're not alone in this. We'll get through this together, buddy. You believe that, don't you?"

"I'll try to."

"Good enough," Burt said, offering him a small smile. "We'll do the best we can. This will be fixed."

*

Finn knew that strictly speaking, he wasn't supposed to be in Kurt's room right now. The doctor had advised that until Kurt was awake and lucid, it would be best to just limit contact in his room to women. He and Burt had reluctantly agreed to that, but Finn had promptly disobeyed, sneaking back into Kurt's room after Burt had gone off to the police station to sit in one of the available chairs, just observing him. Talking to Burt had relieved a bit of his guilt, but it was still there, simmering beneath the surface. Finn didn't want Kurt out of his sight if he could help it.

"They arrested them," he said, looking at Kurt. "I hit Karofsky hard enough that he was disoriented. He left the hall but Coach Beiste found him within a few minutes and locked him in her office until the police could get him. Azimo made it home, but his parents turned him in. Burt's supposed to talk to their parents today, although I don’t see the point. What do they even want?

"We're the talk of the school, not that I care, not anymore," he finished sadly.

"If only I'd never cared about that...no, Burt's right. I can't change what happened, but I can fix that, right? I-" Finn paused, as he realised that Kurt's head was moving, turning slowly toward him as a bit of a groan slipped past his lips. He thought quickly, should he leave? He knew what had happened earlier, but then again, it was his voice that had probably woken Kurt up, he didn’t' think they were deliberately sedating him anymore. As Kurt's eyes started to twitch, Finn made up his mind. If he kept talking, Kurt would realise it was him, right?

"Sorry," he continued speaking, his voice a bit shaky as he tried to control his emotions. The last thing Kurt needed right now was a six foot three inches jock launching himself at him in his fragile state. "You always complain when I'm talking too loud. Or is that just when I'm screaming at my video games? Anyway, if you really want me to stop talking I can and let you rest some more, but-". Finn paused again, but this time because, even though Kurt's eyes were only now opening, he could see the way his lips curved upwards the slightest before he stopped, perhaps due to the sting of the cut in the right corner of it. 

"Finn?" he said, his voice questioning as finally he opened his eyes. Finn was out of his chair in a moment, and soon was kneeling beside the bed so that they could be on eye level and Kurt would not have to strain his voice to speak to him.

"Yeah kiddo," he answered, not even realising that he had appropriated Burt's nickname for his son. "It's me, I'm here now."

Kurt didn't answer him at first, just looked at him for long moments, his expression drifting from confusion, to a hint of fear and then, peace. "You were there," he croaked out, "you stopped it," he added.

Finn swallowed deeply at that before he nodded. "Sorry I couldn't get there earlier."

"S'okay," Kurt murmured, blinking lethargically. "'M in the hospital?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, carefully reaching out to place his hand against the side of Kurt's face. It was the first time he had ever done this - touched Kurt like this - but his step-brother immediately exhaled before his eyes drifted close as if he was savouring the touch, the first gentle one he was cognisant of since the attack. Finn smiled softly at that. "I guess it's been a little over a day now."

"Mmmm," Kurt replied vaguely, opening his eyes again to look at him. "Where is everyone?"

"Mom's working her shift," Finn explained, "and Burt's - he's at the station now," he finished, not sure if he should mention that his step-father had been here in the room that morning. Would that be a trigger for him at this point, the hazy memory of fear? "I can tell them you're awake. They'll come immediately."

"S'okay," Kurt said again, turning his head and dislodging Finn's hand.  
"M'thirsty."

"I can fix that," Finn said immediately, rising. "You can only have ice-chips at first, I think. And I guess I should tell someone you're awake now. They may want to check you over. Can you hold on a few minutes?"

"'Kay," he mumbled, his eyes drifting close again, and Finn was pretty certain that by the time he returned, Kurt would already be asleep again.  
But on the off-chance he wasn't, he would fetch his brother whatever it was that he required.


	4. Chapter 4

Something was wrong with Kurt, something that went a lot deeper than the injuries he had received. It was a thought he had not shared with anyone yet, although tonight, in the safety of their bedroom, he would share his fears with Carole. Kurt was acting different, younger was the best way he could describe it. Kurt’s second awakening had gone considerably better thankfully, he had been overjoyed to see him – but in his eyes Burt had seen a vulnerability that had been absent for many years. Kurt calling him “daddy” had cemented his opinion. Burt could not recall seeing his boy in such a fragile state in years, not since they had lost Elizabeth, but, unlike then, he wasn’t sure if his son would be able to snap back to his former self.  


Kurt had taken nearly a year to return to anything resembling ‘normal’ back then, and even then, to Burt, it had been abundantly clear that his son’s innocence had forever been tainted by the loss. Time had dulled the pain for his son – for both of them – but it wasn’t until Kurt’s teenage years that Burt started to see that infectious grin of his again, and, admittedly, he might have gone out of his way to spoil him to keep seeing that smile.

Burt forced himself to dismiss his dismal thoughts for now as Officer Stell approached him. He supposed that someone had told the man where to find him. Burt had been in the small park on the hospital’s property, glad to escape the confines of the building for a bit. The sun was shining and the wind was an occasional companion, and, it gave him a bit of comfort to see patients with families or care takers appreciating the beauty of the day. 

“Hello,” he said in greeting as the man sat beside him, “I guess we’re keeping you busy huh?”

“Not at all,” the man responded with a small smile, “comes with the territory. I heard that Kurt woke up. How’s he doing?”

“Better, I suppose,” Burt allowed. “Freaked out the first time he got up, but it’s not so bad now, I think. If you want to talk to him I suggest giving us ample time to tell him before hand.”

“There’s no pressure there,” Stell reassured, “talking to him can wait for a few more days if that’s what is best. The case is pretty solid, but we’re still investigating a few other aspects before we press all the charges against them.”

“You mean based on the video?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “We can add more counts for assault based on it, and we can possibly nail them for hate speech as well. But…the real reason I’m here Burt,” the man said, meeting his gaze squarely, “is that I want to know how far you’re prepared to go with this.”

"What do you mean?" Burt asked, looking at him, sensing a deeper meaning to the man’s words.

Stell didn’t respond immediately. Instead he rocked forward, resting his elbows against his thighs. He let out a deep sigh. “The toughest part of my job Burt is dealing with administration. The criminals? They’re a breeze in comparison to administrators and that’s exactly the wall I’m hitting. There’s something rotten in that school Burt, and I want to know just how far you’re willing to go because things can get nasty.”

Burt frowned. “I know Figgins isn’t the best, but surely even he has to help with regard to this.”

“He’s being stubborn,” Stell told him bluntly, “I’m heading back to the school after this, and I’m planning on throwing my weight around a lot more this time, but I want to know if you want me to directly tackle the issue of Kurt or just bullying at the school on the whole. That boy who filmed the attack has a website filled with similar incidents, Burt. There’s beatings, abuse, harassment…god I even saw a kid in a wheelchair being tossed in a port-a-potty that they tipped over with him inside.” The man gave a dry laugh. “I’d be better off listing what isn’t there. Kurt’s on a few more of those clips, and from the time stamps I can tell you this has been going on ever since he entered that school.”

“And that was on the internet?” Burt asked woodenly, clenching his fists.

“Yes,” he agreed sadly. “Israeli is cooperating with us because there’s a few charges we could throw his way as well since it’s clear he instigated a few of those incidents. The killer part Burt is that these videos weren’t even shot in isolated areas. A good few times it’s happened on the main corridors, in full view of security cameras. I’ve seen teachers just walking pass when it’s happening. There’s no way in hell that all of those students haven’t complained, either to their parents or to the school and yet nothing seems to have been done.”

“A cover up?”

“Seems more than likely,” he agreed, looking toward him. “It’s mostly the jocks that are involved and while the school’s sport teams don’t do that well on a national level, they’re successful enough locally that they have sponsors.”

“And Figgins doesn’t want anything to tarnish their reputation,” Burt finished. 

“Exactly,” he agreed. “You’ll be proud to know though that I’ve seen Finn intervening to stop a few of the attacks, even if it got him roughed up in return. I’m not going to paint all the jocks in the same light, but serious weeding needs to be done to get rid of the rotten ones. Kids shouldn’t have to go to school in fear.” 

“No one deserves that.” 

“Indeed. I’m going to pursue this Burt, trust me, I am. But what I want to know is if you want Kurt’s name involved in this as well. There’s no statute of limitations on some of those things I saw, and the kids’ faces are easily discernible. Do you want to press charges for those as well or do you just want to let the process play through?”

Burt was silent for long moments. “He’d have to testify to all if I say yes, won’t he?” he asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I’m pretty certain it’s going to be a legal battle. Not all of those parents are going to be as cooperative as the Adams are currently being. Kurt could find himself in court again and again, and I need you to decide if that is something you are willing to let him go through.”

“I don’t even think he could testify to this if it’s required,” Burt admitted, his mind once again drawn to the son he had spent time with that morning. “I don’t think he’s strong enough…not anymore.”

“And that’s your decision to make,” he reassured him. “Kurt is your son, and you need to do what you think is best for him. If you want to keep him out of the legal process, that is fine. It will proceed without him, and he will get justice regardless.”

“What will happen to those kids?” 

Stell straightened. “Honestly, I’m going to press for all the charges I can for the simple reason that I know the lawyers will whittle them down. The lesser offenders are probably going to get off on community service. The worse ones’ lawyers are definitely going to petition for them to be treated as minors and then spend a good time bringing up their records of good behaviour – if they can find any. Karofsky and Adams, if it wasn’t for this last attack, would have definitely found themselves in juvie. As is, depending on which trial finishes first, they can have a good few months or other stipulations added to their records.

“From the school’s side, I expect suspensions or expulsions but that, once again raises the issue of Figgins. He’s being resistant all now, and, off the record, I’d say you have one hell of a lawsuit against that school on your hands Burt. A good few parents do.”

“A lawsuit isn’t going to help Kurt heal,” Burt told him, briefly glancing his way. 

Stell nodded. “It’s an option to keep in mind, regardless,” he told him, and, reaching into his pocket, he passed him a business card. “It’s not my place to say this Burt, but the way I think this may end up going, you may just want to keep your hand on that. I’m not going to tell you what you should or should not do with your family Burt, but I’ll just advise you to keep your options open…just in case.”

Burt took the card, eyeing it for a moment before pocketing it. He hoped that the man’s words wouldn’t come to pass, but, as the man said, perhaps it was better to be prepared for all eventualities. 

*

Gentle, steady movements were the way to go, Finn realised, observing Kurt. It wasn’t as if he was truly terrified of everyone bigger and burlier than him now, it was just that Kurt couldn’t be startled by them right now. Finn had learnt that the hard way when Kurt had flinched when he had gotten out of his seat abruptly earlier. The fear in his eyes in that moment had been a difficult pill for Finn to swallow, moreso the way Kurt had kept his gaze averted for a while after, almost as if he was ashamed by his own reaction.

Finn didn’t like to see Kurt subdued like that, didn’t like how different he seemed now in a way he couldn’t fully comprehend. 

Kurt hadn’t even been interested in any of the stuff Finn had brought with him. Fashion magazines? No. His laptop? No. He had not even wanted the colourful blanket Finn had brought to liven up his room a bit. But, what bothered Finn the most was the way he had hesitated each time he was offered something before refusing, almost as if he wanted it but couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Finn had had to keep his curiosity at bay for fear of upsetting him.

Kurt's hospital room did not have much in the way of entertainment, especially now that he did not want any of his gadgets to mess around with, and so, Finn, in desperation, had settled upon reading one of the few books of Kurt he had brought with him while he rested. Surprisingly, Kurt, upon awakening, had been okay with that, eyeing first Finn and then the book with curiosity and a hint of expectation. Following his instinct, Finn had brought his chair closer and started reading aloud. It was a new experience for him, not necessarily, a bad one, and the more he read, the more they both relaxed.

Finn got through a good few chapters before he finally set the book aside. “I need to stretch,” he said, mostly for Kurt’s benefit as he stood, raising his arms above him. He felt Kurt’s eyes on him, and he turned, offering him a small smile. “Sup lil dude?” he asked, hiding his disappointment when Kurt failed to bristle at the nickname.

“I’m really hurt, aren’t I?” Kurt inquired, and Finn stilled. This was the first time since he had woken up that Finn had heard him make any direct reference to his state.

Carefully, and still stretching, he responded. “You’re getting better every day. You’ll be home sooner than you know it.”

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked then, “these are a lot of bandages,” he added, poking at the ones wrapped around his torso.

Finn sat back down again. “You have a few fractured ribs and one’s broken. That broken one is the main reason you’re still here, I think. The doctors don’t think it’s healed enough yet to risk you getting jostled about getting home.”

“Oh, that’s why there feels so achy,” Kurt said, moving his arm to rub gently against the spot.

“You’re not in too much pain, right?” Finn asked, instantly on alert. “There’s less than an hour for your next dosage. They’ll probably let you have it now.”

“It’s not that bad,” Kurt answered, and, while Finn really wanted to go fetch a nurse anyway, he decided that he would trust Kurt’s words for now.

Kurt didn’t say anything for a bit again, before, “He had a knife. He cut me a few places.”

"Those are what the smaller bandages are covering,” Finn said, this time struggling to keep the anger out of his tone. Kurt didn’t need that right now. 

"My arm got busted up good, huh?" Kurt stated next, and Finn found himself a bit more on alert now. There was an odd edge to Kurt's words now, as if he was building up to something but wasn’t quite sure how to get to there.”

"Yeah," he agreed, "you took some damage defending yourself.”

"This one more," he half asked, half stated, gesturing to his right one. It was completely bandaged from his shoulder to his wrist. It was the only real stab Karofsky had managed to inflict, but there were enough lacerations down the length of it that that had been the most effective way to deal with it.

"They spent more time working on that hand," Finn agreed.

"They bandaged it really tight though," Kurt told him then, almost conversationally. "I can't feel anything...can't even move it really."

Instantly Finn was on alert. Kurt's arm shouldn't be numb, those bandages were no tighter than the ones on the rest of him. 

"Did the numbness start recently?" Finn asked, staring down at the appendage, before reaching over carefully to grasp and lift it, mindful of Kurt's injuries. 

"I think it's been that way since I woke up."

Finn jostled it slightly, glancing up to gauge Kurt's reaction. Nothing. That didn't make sense. If Kurt could feel his ribs aching, he should definitely be able to the stab wound at the very least. But no, Kurt had no reaction at all to it, not even when Finn cautiously prodded at the wound itself. 

"Wriggle your fingers for me, Kurt," Finn requested. His wrist and hand was free; even if the bandages were tight, he should be able to manage that. "Kurt," he repeated after a few seconds, “wriggle them.”

"I am," Kurt said, and now his voice had lost its oddly calm edge and Finn could hear panic rising, a panic he too was sharing. 

"Finn, I am. Why aren't they moving? Why can't I feel anything?"

In desperation Finn laced Kurt's fingers in his and squeezed to the point where he knew Kurt had to feel pain. But there was nothing, not even the slightest grimace.

"I can't feel you," Kurt told him, his voice breaking. "Finn why can't I feel you? Why I can't I feel anything?" he finished, his voices rising to a shriek. “What’s wrong with my arm?”

Finn had no answer for that. He didn't know what to say, didn’t know how to start making this situation better. The only thing that was clear to him was that Kurt was not the only one who now had tears streaming down his face.

*

It was an all around horrible situation, Carole thought as she nursed a cup of coffee. Her fears had been validated, and, more so than before, Finn seemed determined to be a guard to his brother, and that meant not leaving his side. Getting him to head to school that morning had been a task in itself, and Carole had actually asked Stephanie – the receptionist on duty that morning – to let her know if Finn showed up at the hospital since she would not put it past him. She understood where Finn was coming from, but there really was no reason for him to be there with Kurt. Kurt faced a day full of tests to deal with and Burt had gone to the court where both Karofsky and Adams were set to appear. Finn was not needed for either of those situations, and so, despite his complaints, she had ordered him to school for hopefully a good day – whatever that amounted to in this present situation. 

It was why, nearly an hour later, she was confused when she saw his name show up on her caller id. Rolling her eyes fondly, by way of greeting she said, “I’m pretty certain you should in a class right now young man. There’s no update from Kurt, so why don’t you try learning something?”

“I’m not in class,” he confirmed, and immediately Carole was on alert. Finn voice was slightly strained in a way she recognised as him trying to keep a hold of his temper. “You need to come here.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, even as she exited the laundry room, heading for where her purse was.

“I got dragged to the office as soon as I got here,” Finn explained, “and no one would tell me what’s going on. Mr. Shuester came in and saw me here and spoke to the secretary. Figgins has suspension papers drawn up for me mom, me and Kurt. You need to come here.”

Carole froze, her free hand clenching painfully around her car keys. Finn had inherited his temper from her after all, even though hers was considerably more slow-burning. Now though, with the realisation of what Figgins wanted to do with her boys? Carole saw red.

“I’m coming now Finn,” she said before ending the call.

Burt’s flamethrower had nothing on her, she thought grimly as she walked out the door. Figgins was going to pay.


	5. Chapter 5

Burt wasn't the most law-savvy person in the world, but, thanks to a good dose of common sense and a briefing with Stell about court procedures, he could follow along pretty well with what was going on. It didn't make it any less uncomfortable a situation though. The only time in his life that Burt had ever expected to find himself in a courtroom was for jury duty, and now, years after his own father's death, he still knew twenty one ways to get himself out of that particular civic duty if he was so inclined. There wasn't a real way out of this situation he knew, although, strictly speaking, he was well aware he didn't necessarily need to be there. He wanted to be there though, and unfortunately, that meant that he was in a shirt and tie (he had argued down the jacket Carole had wanted to put him in) and without his cap, which in this room left him with a distinct cold spot that wasn't the least bit comfortable. 

The two defence lawyers (he supposed the Adams and the Karofskys didn't want to just team up for this) were speaking now, arguing why the pair should be remanded into the care of their parents until the next court date, while Kurt's lawyer - whose name Burt really should learn - was patiently waiting for her turn to explain just why they shouldn't be given that liberty. She, from what she had told him, had a few compelling points, mainly that the police were still investigating the brunt of their previous actions and to allow them unrestricted freedom at this point could possibly lead to a compromising of that investigation.

Occasionally Burt felt stares directed his way, and, upon checking, found that one or both of Adams' parents were looking at him, pained, yet sorrowful looks on their faces. The Karofskys though were another matter entirely and Burt, from just a few minutes being in the same room with them, could tell exactly where the burly jock had gotten his demeanour from. Burt truly hoped that neither families tried to approach him after the fact, he wasn’t certain he could be cordial.

"Your honour," the prosecutor said, drawing Burt's attention back to the present, "I would like to bring one more matter to the attention of the court that I believe should be considered. May I approach the bench?"

"You may," the magistrate agreed, and Burt briefly lost focus again. He knew what she was going to tell him. Let the other people in the room be curious about the exchange if that was what they wanted. The click of the woman's heels as she walked away caught his attention, and, glancing toward where the magistrate was, Burt saw the completely gray-haired man look at him with something akin to pity. It left a bad taste in Burt's mouth; he didn't need pity, he needed justice.

"Based on the new information brought forward, at this time I will agree to the prosecution's request. Both defendants will continue to be remanded at the juvenile detention centre until the charges against them can be amended."

"What do you mean?" Adams asked, a hint of panic in his voice. "I can't go home? You said I could go home," he added, turning toward his lawyer.

"Control your client Mr. Sawyer," the magistrate demanded, even as Karofsky's lawyer asked the magistrate to elaborate.

"Mrs. Hawkings?" the magistrate said, looking toward the prosecutor.

The woman adjusted her glasses as she turned to where the two teenagers and their lawyers were. "Kurt Hummel is currently suffering paralysis in his right arm. I moved to have the case postponed until the severity of his affliction can be determined by doctors. The results will determine how the current charges against you both will be adjusted."

"You can't do that!" Karofsky Junior spat out angrily. "He's faking! That little faggot is just trying to milk this for all he's worth."

Burt had to breathe deeply to calm himself even as the magistrate tried to regain control in the courtroom because, surprise surprise, the teenager's parents were now vociferously adding to his defence. He couldn't do his son any good if he was sitting in a cell, he reminded himself, fists clenched painfully. His boy, hell his entire family, needed him home. Ultimately Karofsky and his parents were ushered out of the court and he could see that the Adams seemed as upset as he was feeling.   
Perhaps they had only now realised the kind of company their son had been keeping?

Nothing more of real worth happened afterwards. The magistrate made a few threats, something about contempt and then told Kurt's lawyer that the next hearing would tentatively be set for a week's time. Burt was more than happy when the man finally rose and exited the room. He was tired of being here now, and what he wanted, more than anything else, was just to get back to the hospital and check up on Kurt before swinging by the shop. Ernie was more than holding things down for him, but he knew that the man would appreciate an in-person update on Kurt's state. 

"Mr. Hummel?"

Burt paused at the call of his name, the lawyer stopping as well. Turning he saw Adam's parents standing there. "Yeah?"

"May we have a minute?" the teen's mother asked, "this won't be long."

"I have nothing more to say to you," Burt said honestly, and even to his own ears he could hear the tiredness and residual anger in his voice.

"We understand that," the tall, slender man said. "What Azimio did to Kurt was terrible, and we're not going to make any excuses for him. We never saw that side of him, never realised he was capable of what he did, what we're still finding out that he's been doing, but, I hope you can believe us when we say that had we known, we would have done something to stop it."

The sincerity in the man's tone melted some of Burt's defensiveness. He could, to a certain extent, understand what he was saying. "Teenagers hide a lot from their folks," he allowed.

"We want you to have this," the man's wife said then, reaching into her purse to take out a manila envelope, offering it to him.

"What is it?" Burt asked, hesitating to take it.

The woman glanced at her husband before speaking. "It's a cheque for the money we've saved for college for him," she explained. "We want Kurt to have it."

"We don't need your money," Burt replied curtly. "It won't change anything."

"I hope you're not trying to offer Mr. Hummel a bribe to drop the case?" the lawyer - Mrs Hawkings he amended - added.

"It's not that at all," she said quickly. "We really do want you to have it, especially now that we know just how badly Kurt has been hurt. Azimio isn't going to go to college," she continued, "or if he is it's not going to be with our help. He's lost that right with the damage he's caused both to Kurt and to other students at that school, and we want him to pay for that. That's why we want Kurt to have this money, to use for his medical bills or whatever else you decide. It'll at least help us to have some peace of mind, that we've tried to make things right."

"Please," the man added, "if you don't take it we'll just find some other way to get rid of it. That's money purpose has now been lost, maybe you can find a new purpose for it."

"You sure about this?" Burt asked, even as he glanced to the woman beside him who nodded.

"It's fine," the woman said, and finally Burt took the cheque from her hands.

It would be a good few days before he actually bothered to open the envelope, and when he did he would whistle at the amount and briefly consider if the Adams were completely sure about their decision. But in the end, he would go ahead and deposit the funds into the account he and Elizabeth had set up for Kurt once he had been born. And, when the option came, he would sit down for an honest conversation with Adams, after which he would ask his lawyer to agree to seek a more rehabilitative approach for him rather than straight out incarceration. Azimio, he would ultimately decide really had been led astray by his friend, and, while he had to pay for that, didn't deserve to face equal blame. Burt would firmly put the boy out of his mind after that point, save for a quick prayer hoping that that was making the right decision, and that the teenager would truly turn his life around after he got out, for his own sake. 

But those instances were far into the future. For now, Burt thought, after pocketing the envelope, he had to figure out just why Finn had texted him earlier with a rather wry message that his wife seemed intent to level McKinley High to the ground. 

The lawyer, sensing an issue, agreed to go to the school with him, but, to Burt's chagrin, she vetoed his desire to make a trip home first to collect his blowtorch.

Such a killjoy, he couldn't help but think as they made their way to the school's grounds.

*

Brian Kentwood looked up from the essay he had currently been scribbling over with a hint of a frown on his face at the call of his name. His wife knew he was grading and - his least favourite part of the teaching experience - and so, as always knew better than to interrupt him during it. And yet, yes, once again, there she was calling his name. "Come here," she added, "and stop scowling. This is important."

Now, for all that he loved his wife, Brian knew that they had differing ideas about what exactly constituted important.   
Nevertheless, as she called to him again, this time with a hint of urgency, the man rose, capping his pen. 

"This better now be a next animal doing a cool new trick," he warned, even as he exited his office and made the short journey to their living room where his lovely wife was seated, television on the local news channel. He resisted the urge to groan at the sight - why she couldn't just watch the national news like everyone else he would never understand. At least those stories were credible, and often times, accurate. 

"Hurry up," she waved, patting the seat beside her, "it's going to start."

"What's going to start?" he grumbled, even as he obediently settled down behind her, wrapping an arm around her despite his fond exasperation with her at the moment. She twisted to kiss his cheek, and Brian acknowledged that he was a sucker as ever trace of annoyance bled out of him at the show of affection. She truly had him whipped, he thought as she snuggled closer.

"It's the next story," she explained, even as the commercial break ended, "watch."

"Yes ma'am," he half teased, chuckling when her hand thudded against his chest in retribution.

"Be serious Bri, this is important."

"I'll behave," he promised, as a brunette newscaster appeared.

"And now more to a story we first introduced you to last week." she said. "Some of you may recall a report from last week. It covered the assault of Kurt Hummel, a gay sophomore student at The William McKinley High School by two students now identified as Azimio Adams and Dave Karofsky. Mr. Hummel was brutally assaulted and stabbed on the stage of the school's auditorium. His step-brother, Finn Hudson arrived in time to end the assault."

"Don't tell me he died," Brian stated angrily, recalling that Stacey had indeed told him a bit about this case over breakfast.

"He hasn't," she answered, "now listen."

"...court hearing, it was revealed that due to his injuries, Mr. Hummel's left arm is now paralysed. Doctors so far have given a grim prognosis so far, but his family remains hopeful." Brian hissed at that, but it seemed that the story still unfolding. 

"Yesterday, after reporting for school for the first time since the assault occurred, Finn Hudson was informed by the school's administration that both he and his brother - the victim in this case - have been suspended, Hudson for disorderly conduct and bringing the school's name into disrepute, and Hummel for the latter offence as well. Upon contacting the school, we were reliably informed that no such actions have thus far been taken again either of the two attackers, ostensibly because so far they have not been officially charged."

"What the hell is wrong with that school?" Brian grated out, "the victims are being punished?"

"As a result the family of both boys have finally decided to come forward to the media believing that this is the only way to ensure that their sons receive justice in this matter. They have retained a lawyer to contest the punishments against the two students, although Burt Hummel has already made it quite clear that they are prepared to withdraw both boys from the school.

"We must also make it known that the attack against Mr. Hummel is not the only matter engaging the attention of the local authorities at the moment. Numerous videos showcasing intense bullying and various attacks against students - including against Mr. Hummel - have emerged. From what we have uncovered, the Hummels, and now so, several other families, are claiming that the school has done little to protect their children's safety. As a result, the Hummels' lawyers are looking into their options, chief among which may be a lawsuit against both the school and the district. As this matter unfolds we will keep you up..."

Stacey clicked the remote, turning the television off before turning to him. Looking down at her, Brian could see the anger blazing in her eyes. "That poor boy," she groused, "what kind of hellhole is that place? At least with us-" she broke off with a huff, looking away.

Brian tightened his grip on her. "I know," he responded, bending to press a kiss to the top of her head. He could understand her ire; once again the victim was being blamed.

"Can they get the suspensions overturned?"

"Undoubtedly," he confirmed. "Kurt's family has made a good tactical move by going to the media; their lawyer probably recommended it. Nothing sets a fire under someone's ass than having the eyes on the public on the matter, and this, this is definitely going to get attention. I wouldn't be surprised if this story doesn't get picked up on a national level, and that's exactly what is going to pressure the district into a speedy resolution. If all those details are correct, that school administration has been negligent."

"He won't be able to go back anyway," she told him. "How could he after that? And his arm is paralysed. Do you know how savage a wound that has to be to have caused that?"

"He'll never be the same," he agreed, even as his mind drifted to thoughts of their son, "but he can get better. With the right treatment and the right environment, he can do better."

"Hopefully," she agreed before pulling away from him. "You still have papers to mark," she told him. "Go, I'm fine."

"They can wait," he decided, pulling her closer to him. He was quiet for a few minutes before continuing, "besides, I don't think I'll be making my first class tomorrow."

"Why?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"I think I need to have a talk with Henry...see if we can't open up a few new spaces in the sophomore class."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions for my American readers (or anyone knowledgeable about it).
> 
> 1\. When does GPA points/credits start getting earned? From freshman year or later on?  
> 2\. I've been giving Dalton a three term/semester schedule so far, but what's the year structure for public schools? Three semesters or two per academic year?  
> 3\. How exactly does assessment work? Do final examinations occur at the end of the academic year or at the end of each semester? Or is there no strict examination period and all grades are earned based on assignments and quizzes?
> 
> Thanks you ^_^.


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt felt exhausted in a way he had never experienced before. It went much deeper than a physical weariness; it was as if he was tired straight to the very core of his being. The doctors had not been exaggerating, it had been a day full of tests that had tested his restraint the longer it went on. The first few were negligible and easily ignorable. But the others became more and more invasive and Kurt found himself being prodded and poked by doctor after doctor. By the time a fourth one – some sort of specialist – had arrived, Kurt had wanted to lash out, but luckily for her, her grey eyes bore a startling resemblance to his mother’s and so, he tolerated her. Nevertheless, he was more than happy when finally he was allowed back to his room, and thankfully, left alone to his thoughts. 

A night’s rest unfortunately did little to alleviate how he felt, and when someone knocked at his door soon after an orderly had left with his tray, Kurt bit his lip, bracing himself for a next round of prodding. He blinked in surprise, his frame relaxing when Finn’s head poked around the door.

“Why are you here?” he blurted out. It was a little after eight. Finn should have already been in school.

“Burt didn’t tell you yesterday?” Finn said, conversationally as he dropped into a chair, “I’ve been suspended.”

“What?!” Kurt gasped.

Finn shrugged, before bending to rummage around in his bag. “I dropped by the bookstore yesterday. The guy recommended the Percy Jackson series. I bought the first three. Wanna read that?”

“Tell me what happened,” Kurt bid, ignoring the book he placed on the bed. 

“It’s being sorted out Kurt,” he answered, “don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me,” Kurt repeated.

Finn huffed, and Kurt could see that he regretted mentioning it to him at all. But then again, what viable explanation could he have come up with to explain why he wasn’t in school?

“Well,” Finn began, when it became clear that Kurt would not be put off, “I got sent to the office as soon as I got there yesterday, found out that they were suspending u…me, suspending me, and called mom. She showed up, ripped Figgins a new one, and now I’m home till the board convenes to hear the appeal against it. Nothing much really.”

“That’s nothing much?” Kurt said doubtfully, “and what did Carole do?”

A look of amusement crossed Finn’s face. “Dude, I keep telling you that you haven’t seen all of mom’s sides yet. She tore Figgins apart. It was beautiful!”

Kurt looked at him sceptically; he just couldn’t imagine Carole in such a role. A second, more sobering thought occurred to him, and quietly he asked, “Why did they suspend you? It’s my fault isn’t it?”

“No Kurt,” Finn replied firmly, “you do not blame yourself for this. Figgins is an idiot, we both know that. I did nothing wrong in defending you. You understand that?”

Kurt was silent for a long moment before, reluctantly, nodding. He didn't believe fully in what Finn was saying; he knew that   
he was being a burden to his family and he hated it. And now Finn was suffering because of him and who he was. That thought left a bad taste in Kurt's mouth and, not for the first time since it had happened Kurt felt a sense of self-loathing rise up within him. If he wasn't so different none of them would have been in this position. It was his fault, and they were paying for it.

"Are you listening to me?" Finn inquired, dropping a hand down onto Kurt's. He flinched slightly, but immediately offered Finn an apologetic look.

"Sorry," he muttered, "my mind drifted."

"It's okay, but pay attention dude. I want to tell you just how much of a badass mom was."

Kurt nodded, his dark thoughts receding a bit at Finn's enthusiasm as he resumed speaking. He settled back, envisioning what Finn was telling him.

*

Finn had to resist the urge to grin numerous times already in the past few minutes. Although he had only seen his mother in this state a handful of times, he knew better than to let her see that he was amused by her anger, otherwise he risked turning it on himself. Nevertheless, it was quite amusing to watch her lay into the now cowering principal, and so, the anger at the injustice he was suffering for was being largely soothed. He knew that his mother would set things right, and so, he just leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the show.

"No I won't be reasoned with," Carole growled, his voice loud enough that Finn was certain everyone in the office was hearing what she was saying. "Let me tell you something Figgins, if you think for a single moment that you are going to get away with suspending my son for protecting his brother, you are barking up the wrong damn tree. And this piece of garbage here," she added, waving to the notice he had handed to her earlier, "what the hell do you mean that Kurt's tarnishing the school's reputation? He was the one who was attacked or are you just going to ignore that little detail, huh?"

"The news report-" the man began, only to be cut off by Carole.

"The news report is a wholly accurate representation of the human refuse masquerading as students that you have in this hellhole pretending to be a school. That boy had a knife, a knife. Are those scanners and metal detectors at the school's entrance just for decoration?"

"Mrs. H-"

"I am not finished," she grated out, and the man, wisely in Finn's opinion, fell silent. "You failed to find a weapon on the school compound. You failed to take immediate action against them afterward, and now you are trying to punish my boys for protecting themselves. Figgins you are just asking me to tear you apart right now, aren't you? Just how many times have you failed to protect them? Failed to protect all of the students in your care?"

The man was silent for a long moment, before in the most diplomatic tone he could manage saying, "I can understand why you are upset ma'am, but the decision has been made. If you have an issue with it you are free to appeal the matter to the school board-"

"Oh trust me, I'm going to appeal it," she snapped, "But I am not leaving here until I finish giving you a piece of my mind and I am far from done..."

*

"That went on for nearly ten more minutes Kurt," Finn said with a bit of a laugh. "I think she would have continued, but Burt and the lawyer showed up. I must admit seeing her shut Figgins up completely."

"But it doesn't change the fact that you're suspended," Kurt said softly.

"Don't worry about it," Finn repeated. "I actually don't mind because it means I can just be around here more for you. Everything will sort itself out, I'm sure."

Kurt looked away. "I'm sorry."

"Kurt-"

"Please don't," he interrupted, glancing back at him, "please don't try to make me feel better about it."

Finn was silent at that, and Kurt felt his gaze linger on him for a while but he didn't turn back to look at him, couldn't look at him. He wasn't in the mood to have Finn lie to try to make him feel okay. Although he supposed it was a bit funny what Carole had done, it did not change the fact that she had had to do it. Just a next thing he was responsible for, he thought darkly. Everything came down to him.

*

Kurt was finally coming home today. Carole didn't have to work, so it was only Burt there, once again in the hospital's small park waiting for them to go through one last check over and writing out far too many prescriptions for him. Burt had barely resisted a wince when he had seen the capsule of pills Kurt had swallowed the previous night. How he managed to eat after taking that mouthful was beyond him. The psychologist had promised that he would not have to remain on that cocktail for too long a time; Burt sincerely hoped that that was true.

"Burt Hummel?"

Burt turned at the sound of his name, surprised to find a man in business casual clothes standing near the edge of the bench he was on. He was in his late forties, with salt and pepper hair. In one hand he held a briefcase, but it wasn't anywhere near as stylish as the one the lawyer lady carried around - honestly it seemed a bit weathered. That and the pens clipped to the man's shirt pocket had Burt standing and offering a hand.

"Teacher, huh?" he correctly guessed. "Other than Shuester and Philsburry, I didn't really expect any of you to show up here."

If the man was surprised by his assumption, he didn't show it. Instead, he let out a rueful chuckle as he took Burt's hand, shaking it firmly. "Correct," he acknowledged, releasing his grip. "My name is Brian Kentwood, it's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you don't mind that I'm here? I swung pass your work place and the gentleman there said I could find you here."

"Nah, it's fine," Burt said, sitting once again and gesturing for the man to do the same. "What can I help you with? Did you come here to see Kurt?"

"Actually I thought it best to speak with you first."

"This is about the suspensions?"

"No," the man said, before adding, "has that matter been resolved?"

Burt shrugged, "We got a call from someone on the board this morning saying that it should be speedily resolved. We've already decided that we're taking Kurt out of the school completely, and Carole is thinking about pulling Finn out as well. 

We're not sure it's safe for either of them to be there, not anymore."

"That's understandable," the man commiserated. "That's what parents want more than anything in this world, to ensure that their children are safe and happy."

"Sounds about right," Burt agreed. "If you don't mind me asking, what subject do you teach Kurt? I don't recall him ever mentioning a Kentwood, but if you're here, I suppose that means something, huh?"

"I teach English and Literature," the man responded. "I suppose I should have added from the start," he continued, almost   
ruefully, "that I don't teach at McKinley High. I'm a senior teacher at Dalton Academy for Boys."

Burt's brows furrowed for a moment. "That prep school in Westerville? Why are you here?" he asked with a bit of suspicion.

"Well Burt," the man said, meeting his gaze squarely, "I came out here to see if you were interested in enrolling your sons at Dalton."

Out of all the responses he had expected from the man, that was certainly not one of them.

"We never applied to your school," Burt said with a healthy dose of scepticism.

The man was silent for a moment, as if he was deciding the best way to explain himself before saying, "Frankly, I saw the news story. It...moved me. I went to Dalton's administration yesterday and after some talks, they've agreed to offer scholarships for your sons."

"Excuse me if I find it difficult to believe that in this day and age someone just decides to do something nice for strangers," Burt said bluntly.

"I may have a bit of an ulterior motive," the man admitted, before opening his suitcase. "I also expected a question like that, which is why I brought this with me," he finished, pulling out a scarlet photo album. He started flipping through it open while he continued to speak. "I have three children myself. Dylan's my oldest," he said, turning the album so that Burt could see a well-built blonde teenager in a football uniform. "He's why I'm here," he continued. "This photo was taken the day he got his football uniform. First freshman in three years to make it onto the team in a starting position. This," he said, flipping a few pages down, "is him, about three months later."

Burt's eyes widened slightly as he took in the same teenager, now considerably thinner, sitting in a wheelchair beside a crouching woman whom Burt assumed was his mother.

"What happened?" he couldn't help but ask.

Looking up from the picture, Burt saw a sombre expression on the man's face. "A prank that went horribly wrong," he said, bitterness in his voice. "I've taught at Dalton ever since I earned my degree in Education. The school offers numerous benefits, including free tuition to staff member's children. But Dylan didn't want to go to Dalton. He loved football, and Westerville High's football team was the best in the state at the time. His mother and I supported him in the decision, he wanted to go pro and I wasn't about to stifle that just because I wanted my boy in Dalton with me.

"The coach said that he was the most promising out of all of those who tried out, and though he came home exhausted and in pain, he never seemed as exhilarated as he was then. But then someone decided it would be funny to haze the newcomers. They told them that they had to do ten laps through the school and then put a skateboard near the top of the stairs. Dylan saw it too late, landed badly and broke some of the vertebra in his spine."

Burt hissed in sympathy.

"He suffered from paralysis," he continued, and now Burt was staring at him with wide, but comprehending eyes, "and it was a long, painful recovery from it. I suppose I could say that when I saw the story, I saw Dylan in it. No one ever copped to doing it, and the school wrote it off as a tragic accident. He was out of school for the entire year, and when he was well enough to resume, I had him enrolled in Dalton. They did everything they could to facilitate to his needs. By then he could walk a few steps with the help of his crutches, but nowhere near enough to be independent of his wheelchair. Dalton shifted all the classes around for him. It's the reason why there's a random laboratory on the ground floor now," he added with a small laugh. "He's not the first special needs student that Dalton has dealt with by any means, and I'm certainly sure he won't be the last. The school has experience with dealing with students with needs, and while it took Dylan an extra year to graduate because of all the therapy he had to do, he did it.

"I don't know your son Burt, and I only have the bare details to go off of, but I can tell you that this is not going to be an easy journey for Kurt. But what I do want you to know is that you have options, for Kurt and for Finn."

"How is Dylan now?" Burt asked.

Brian smiled and flipped to the back of the album. "This was taken last Christmas at an alumni party."

The boy - now man, Burt supposed - had never fully recovered his former built. However he was upright and seemed jovially, surrounded by a few men around his age. If it wasn't for the cane in his hand, Burt doubted that he would have ever guessed that he had ever been in a wheelchair.

"Well," Burt stated, looking at him, "you've certainly given me something to think about."

*

"Here you go," Brian said, about twenty minutes later, "Everything you need to know about the school is in that envelope. To be honest, I passed by McKinley before I came here and left a couple of transcript request forms with the office. All you have to do is call and give approval and they'll send Kurt and Finn's academic records over to us so we can see about class placements."

"You're really serious about this," Burt stated, a bit surprised as he hefted the envelope.

"Completely," he told him with an honest smile. "We really do want to help."

Burt looked thoughtful for a moment before admitting, "I don't know how Kurt would do in a school full of boys right now. He barely tolerates any male who isn't me or Finn around him and his behaviour is...a bit wonky right now."

"He's gone through trauma," the man responded, "and that's understandable. Like I told you earlier, we're willing to make accommodations for Kurt's needs. Our class sizes are small, and if there are specific trigger factors that can be identified, we can work around them. And, I know it may sound strange to bring in education into this right about now, but I can tell you that having school work to focus on gave Dylan something to occupy his mind and time with."

"Bury the pain in books you mean?" Burt half-joked.

"Sort of," he agreed. "Dalton has a lot to offer, a rigorous curriculum alongside a plethora of extra-curricular activities. But most of all, we have an iron-clad anti-bullying policy. I can assure you that Kurt will face no danger while in our care. Dalton boys aren't just students to us, we treat them like they are our very own and the students hold each other in the same regard. Your sons will be our sons and their classmates will be their brothers. We take care of our own Burt, and we can take care of them as well."

There was not an ounce of insincerity in the man's words and Burt found himself nodding. "My wife and I will take a good look at this...we'll get back to you soon okay?"

"My number's included," he answered immediately. "And if there is anything else I can do to assist in the process, just let me know."

"I'll do that," Burt promised, "and…thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

Coming home was not turning into the great experience Kurt had initially hoped it would be. While in the hospital, at the mercy of the doctors, home had seemed to be such a safe haven, but now, Kurt didn't feel that way. Everything felt strange, everyone was acting different, and no one truly seemed to know how to address the giant elephant in the room. It was beginning to bug him. His father had talked endlessly and aimlessly on the ride home, and while Kurt usually enjoyed listening to him, he had been painfully aware that this time, his father's talking was meant mainly to break the tense silence in the car. Kurt didn't want that, didn't like the lingering tenseness that seemed to be clinging to all of them. He didn't care for the garish flowers that the glee club had sent, he didn't care that Carole had prepared a meal of all his favourite foods. He didn't care about anything anymore. Nothing mattered. How could anything matter if he was a cripple now?

He didn't regret yelling at the psychologist he had been assigned to. No, he did not want to talk about what he was feeling, how he planned to cope. What was there to say? Wasn't it obvious that he had a good reason to be depressed? He had a bloody useless arm. Shouldn't he be angry by the fact that everything he had ever wanted for himself was now ruined? Should he not be upset that his phone, which he had finally turned on, had been stacked with mostly negative messages from people blaming him for ruining Karofsky and Adam's life? Wasn't it truly his fault? After all, if he hadn't been gay he would have never been on their radar in the first place. If he hadn't been stupid enough to have put himself in such a vulnerable position, he wouldn't have been hurt. It was his fault, all of it, and he had been punished for that through the loss of his arm. That was his comeuppance for trying to aim above his status.

As much as he appreciated Carole's effort, he did not have much of an appetite. But, to appease his family, he had forced down a good bit of the chicken pot pie and chocolate cheese cake put before him, but god, hadn't that been a task by itself. He had ended up wearing a good portion of that pie. Until then he had never really realised just how dependant he had been on his dominant hand to eat (the bland uncomplicated foods he had had at the hospital didn’t count). Oh yes he knew the rules of etiquette, but truly, he had rarely ever had the need to implement them into everyday practice. In the freedom of his home Kurt had been quite happy to eat all his meals with a spoon, and so, his left hand was clumsy and slow to manoeuvre now. That was something else to regret; had he practised equally, he would not be at the level of a toddler when it came to the simple act of eating. He didn't even want to consider how he would go about writing from now on... 

It took him considerably longer than everyone else to finish, and for the first time he was thankful that they were not the sort of family where everyone had to remain until the last person finished eating. Usually that honour fell to Finn, who would be happily consuming all of the remnants of the meal, but right about now, it seemed as if they were tied. Except...now that he had dropped his spoon with distaste, Kurt realised that Finn mimicked him. Kurt shot him a contemplative look as the jock stood and gathered their wares, adding them to the pile in the sink. 

They were home now, would everything go back to how it was? The more time that passed, the more that some of Kurt's memories returned, and among the negative was something that stood out quite strongly to him. He could clearly recall Finn's part in the event, the way his face swam in Kurt's vision, his frantic expression even as he tried to force his tone into something soothing although Kurt could not quite recall his actual words. If he pressed himself he could recall flashes from within the ambulance; he had started struggling and then, once again there was Finn's face in front of him, warm and soothing so that Kurt had relaxed before drifting under again. Kurt didn't know why, or rather, could not explain why, but his feelings...he knew his feelings toward his step-brother had irrevocably changed.  
Finn, as if sensing his lingering gaze, turned from the sink, shooting him a kind smile.

"Are you very tired? You were quiet throughout dinner."

Kurt shook his head. "No...I'm not tired."

"Just thinking, huh?" Finn said then knowingly, before shaking a hand free of water to grab a drying cloth. Kurt jumped slightly when he tossed it onto the table in front of it. "Come dry with me."

Kurt hesitated for a moment before taking it up, and, almost sheepishly walked over, eyeing the glasses and plates with trepidation. Had Finn not seen the disaster that had been dinner? Was he really going to trust with the dishes? His hesitancy probably showed on his face, because Finn nudged him lightly.

"The most that could happen is that you break something," he said nonchalantly before his hands went back into the soapy water. "And if you do break something, start with the bronze plate. Aunt Ingrid gave that to us a few years ago, and between you and me, she's a bit of a dick."

Despite himself, Kurt snorted at that. A bit of the tension fell from him, and, after a brief contemplation, he reached out and carefully set a plate onto the counter before tentatively wiping the cloth over it. Finn didn't comment, and it definitely took a lot longer than usual, and there were definite streaky spots on them, but he managed it. They settled into a bit of a mundane routine, Finn washing, he drying. Finn didn't rush him at all, something he appreciated. Instead, once he finished washing and rinsing, Finn turned his attention to packing, waiting patiently for Kurt to finish one before he stored it away.

"When do you have to take your meds?" he asked, conversationally.

"I don't know," Kurt replied honestly. "I wasn't listening...I don't even know what all of them are for."

"Understandable," he said, leaning against the counter. "Mom should know, but what do you say? Wanna just grab the bag and start googling? Learn for ourselves?"

The 'ourselves' had Kurt pausing in his task to look at him. Finn was putting himself into the equation? "You don't have to," he told him hesitantly. "I'm sure you have other things to do."

"You are my things to do," Finn told him sincerely, "and I don't mean that in a pervy way."

Despite the minor joke, Kurt found himself a bit overwhelmed by the raw honesty in his voice, and so, he turned away.

"We need ice-cream," Finn suddenly declared, causing him to look up at him once more. Finn moved around him and snagged two of the remaining glasses before walking away. Kurt's lips quirked at that - he could have waited - before he set the towel down. "Ice cream for what?"

"To make the googling process interesting," Finn answered, his voice a bit muffled due to his head being in the deepfreeze. 

"Head on up," he added, briefly pulling back, "I'll bring it."

Kurt nodded, because really, in such a situation, what else was there for him to do but accept?

*

Kurt didn't make it to his bedroom. He had made it to the door, opened it, and then had stopped short. The first thing his eyes fell on - something he had at one time loved - was a huge landscape oriented poster hung above his window. He had taken one look at it, and couldn't move a step further because of what it represented, Broadway, that wonderful part of New York which he had hoped to spend his life working on. His mind drifted from the poster to the stage, that big lighted area where people took on personas and represented those personas' lives on stage. A stage he had been on when...

Kurt didn't even realise that his breathing had grown erratic as he stumbled back. He couldn't...he just...

His vision drifted in and out as his mind raced, taking him back to that moment...his singing, the lights of the stage, the two of them running up to him... The scenes looped and as the seconds went by Kurt started to feel it, the fright, the pain, the fading hope that someone would help him before he...before he...  
Finn.

Just like before, Kurt started to hear Finn's voice calling to him, and he latched on to it, held on tightly as he forced himself to concentrate on his brother's words. It took some time, but finally Kurt felt the grip of his memories ease. He blinked slowly, lethargically, his entire body feeling heavy as his gaze finally settled. Finn was indeed next to him, his arm a steady presence around his back. Shifting his head a bit he saw his parents next to him, a stressed expression on his father's face while Carole seemed much more composed, a bottle of water and a bag beside her. It was her voice he had been hearing alongside Finn's, he realised. She was repeating something, words that he still wasn't able to fully comprehend, but seeing them helped ground him further. 

He met her gaze, feeling overwhelmed in an entirely different way now. What was happening to him? His chest hurt, and not because of his ribs, and his arm was still flopped uselessly beside him. He made a sound, somewhere between a groan and a shriek because, what else was there for him to do? Carole's expression briefly shifted to, relief...? She nudged Burt, who handed her a pair of pills.

"Take these, Kurt," she told him firmly. There was nothing he could do except listen to her and he swallowed the tablets with a mouthful of water though it went down painfully.

"You'll be okay sweetheart," she told him soothingly. "Let's get you up off the floor okay?"

Finn helped him stand, steadying him. He whimpered a bit as they led him into his room but he was in no position to speak, far less resist. Beside, despite the posters, his bed seemed so inviting right about now, and so he dropped heavily down on it, uncaring of the conversations occurring around him. He curled up on a corner of the bed, and stared aimlessly at a spot on his wall as he felt an artificial calmness start to flow through him. The bed depressed beside him, and Kurt felt the heavy thump of his dad's hand as it started a rhythmic pattern against his back. Kurt sighed at the gesture, taking comfort from it as he always did.

"Daddy," he murmured.

"I'm here bud," Burt said simply. "You're okay. I'm here."

It took a little over five minutes for Kurt to unfurl himself. Rolling over, he shuffled himself so that his head could rest on his father's chest. He sighed again as his father's arms came around him and he finally allowed his eyes to drift close. His dad was here, he was safe.

*

Finn woke slowly. He had had a bit of trouble falling asleep. His plan for a nice, quiet night with Kurt had fallen through in the worst possible way. Instead, the ice cream he had brought up for them had been split between himself and his mother while Burt dozed upstairs with Kurt, too afraid to leave him alone. Eventually he had joined them and they brained stormed what had happened but truthfully until Kurt himself told them, they couldn't be one hundred percent certain about what had triggered it. And more than that, there was the disheartening fact that this would not be the last time this happened. That sobering thought had probably been the main factor his sleep had been so fitful.

He moved to stretch, but froze as his blanket did not move with him. Carefully, he eased himself up, trying not to panic as he took in the large lump beside him. What was happening? His first thought was to push it off. He had seen one too many horror stories and he knew how they ended. There was no way in hell he was going to become possessed by whatever demon finally decided to reveal himself in the house. Could he smother a demon to death, he thought, his paranoia enhanced by his sleepy state. He reached for a pillow in his left hand, while the other moved to turn on his lamp. Flip the light then hit the demon he thought, before putting his plan into motion. Thankfully though he stopped just inches from the demon's head when he realised that he knew that head of chestnut hair.

He blinked, his sleep confusion fading as he realised that Kurt was on his bed, sleeping on top of his blanket to be more specific. He stared down at him stupidly for a moment as the fact that his little brother at some point in the night had sought him out sunk in. Finn was pretty certain that he had a stupid grin on his face as he gently set the pillow back down. Kurt was sleeping on his left side, allowing Finn to grasp his arm gently, hissing when he felt how cold his skin was. He wondered if he didn't just climb under in fear of waking him. Finn definitely would not have minded that, but perhaps Kurt hadn't known realised how much his mentality had changed.

Feeling oddly protective of him, Finn gently moved the blanket off himself and wrapped it around Kurt, essentially forming a blanket burrito that reminded him of some of those posts of Rachel's that he spied on Tumblr...or was it her MySpace? It didn't matter he decided as he edged off the bed, ensuring that Kurt was indeed fully covered before he checked the time. It was still dark outside but it was a little after six now, and since it was a Saturday, he was pretty certain that his mom didn't have to go in until the afternoon. He padded down the hall to their bedroom, yawning loudly as he scratched at his stomach. He knocked on their door, positive that at least one of them was awake. If they weren't they would find a brightly coloured page shoved under their door, but, after a few seconds he heard Burt's voice.

Opening the door he saw him sitting up in bed, one of his mom's books now on his lap. He mentally chuckled at that; his mom's plan to re-introduce literature into her husband's life was working. 

"Everything okay son?" Burt asked.

"Kurt's in my bed," he said, voice at a normal level. He had never been a particularly quiet teenager and so he knew his mom was pretty much guaranteed to sleep through any noise he made save the call of her name or a shout of pain (and yes she knew by now how to decipher between his types of shouts even when sleeping).

"He is?" Burt said with a hint of surprise. 

"Yeah," he responded, "scared the life out of me. Just wanted to let you know so you guys didn't panic if you found his room empty."

"You okay to leave him there?" Burt asked. "I can move him if you want."

"It's fine," Finn reassured him, "I don't mind."

"You're a good kid, Finn," Burt told him sincerely.

"He's my brother," Finn responded honestly, "I'll take care of him."

Burt didn't answer but nodded, turning toward Carole as she stirred. "I'll tell her," he told Finn, who nodded and walked away.

Finn barely stifled a laugh when he returned to his room. Kurt had rolled over onto his side of the bed and was now snuggled deeply against one of his pillows. Was it weird that he thought that he looked adorable, Finn thought as he settled down onto his window seat, looking to where Kurt was slumbering. He wondered at to his presence, and why, if Kurt needed something in the night, he had come to him and not to their parents. Not that he minded, he truly didn't. It had just been a bit of a surprise, but then again, Finn noted, perhaps he should just be grateful that Kurt hadn't decided to suffer on his own and had sought help. That, was one step in the right direction.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt slept long enough into the morning to worry Finn. At times he had wanted to gently poke at him, or else ‘accidentally’ make a noise that would wake him, just to see if he was okay, but his mom, during one check in, vetoed the idea. The pills Kurt had taken were meant to knock him out, and until it left his system, disturbing him would just leave him miserably groggy, and that was the last thing he needed or they wanted at this time. Indeed, his mother had expressed her surprise that Kurt had even woken up during the night at all, far less had had the frame of mind and coordination to change rooms. Finn understood her words, and acknowledged that they made sense, but still his niggling urge was hard to ignore. If he couldn’t wake him up, and he didn’t want to leave him alone in case he woke up disoriented, there was painfully little else he could do to occupy his time.

School work, he eventually realised, was the only really activity left for him to do, and so while he was pretty certain he would never get the chance to turn in the homework that was now very much overdue, he set about completing it anyway. It took him a while to actually get into the groove of things. Some of the assignments required a bit of research or re-reading and, for the first time in a long while, he actually went about doing the required work to complete the assignments rather than just winging it and hoping for the best.

If he were completely honest, Finn would admit that he’d mostly given up on studying ever since he had entered high school. It was something his mother scolded him for ever so often, but by large, he ignored her. He did well enough to not risk getting kicked of the teams he was on, but that was about it. Finn didn’t consider himself to be smart by any means, but he had managed to finish middle school with good grades. Some people were graced with minds that just understood things naturally, or else could just hear or read something once and then remember it forever. Finn was neither of those persons. He had had to work for academic success and had spent hours pouring over his work back then. But between his social life, the teams he had joined in freshman year and Puck’s dismissive attitude toward academics, something had had to give for him to maintain it all, and well, studying had been the easiest thing to get rid of. 

Now, sitting here struggling to make sense of the equations he was meant to solve, Finn found himself trying to recall the methods of old that had helped him. For the more reading dense subjects he used to read a few pages, jot down what he remembered and then re-read those ever so often. And, before big tests he would walk around like a loon just talking to himself about what he had to remember. But for calculations…what had he done? Finn let out an aggravated grunt as he quickly found himself growing agitated. Had he even been paying attention in class when they had been covering this? The more he stared at the equations, the less sensible they seemed to be and it was very tempting to just chuck the book aside and load a game as was habit, because that was certainly less stressful than doing this. He grumbled to himself once more, glaring at the book in front of him as if the answers would suddenly appear when he heard a soft, yet distinct laugh from behind him. Turning, he found Kurt hiding a smile from behind his hand.

Kurt still looked a bit tired, but the amusement on his face seemed genuine, and his eyes had an alertness to them that hinted at him being awake for at least a few minutes now. And, somehow without him really noticing, he had moved to the end of the bed, probably to better look at him.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, keeping his tone light as all his irritation quickly disappeared.

Kurt chuckled again, lowering his hand. “You don’t have a nice frustration face,” he replied, his voice a bit hoarse.

“I’ll have you know all my faces are very attractive,” he defended, and he was gratified when Kurt let out that soft laugh again. 

“Feeling okay?” he asked seconds later after he closed the book with a satisfied thump. 

Kurt’s head tilted in thought for a second. “I feel weird,” he admitted, “like sleepy weird? How long have you been up?” 

“A few hours,” Finn answered, and was a bit surprised when a look of mild panic flitted across Kurt’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“N-nothing,” Kurt mumbled, looking away.

Finn thought about it for a second, and deduced that Kurt now felt a bit uncomfortable because he had been ‘caught’ so to speak. Thinking about it, the fact that he had come late in the night, and hadn’t gotten under the covers made sense in that context. Maybe Kurt hadn’t expected to be found, maybe he had hoped to just wake up early and sneak back out without his actions being noticed. 

Hoping to salvage the situation, Finn said in a light, teasing tone, “I thought you were an alien.”

That caught Kurt’s attention, and tentatively he looked at him once again, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. 

“I had a pillow ready to smother you with and everything,” he finished.  
Kurt let out a startled laugh, before his amusement faded. “I’m sorry,” he told him, “I-“.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Finn interrupted, saving the younger teen from the uncomfortable conversation, “and you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. I didn’t mind…I don’t mind.” He put extra emphasis on the word, and looked at Kurt, seeing the way his eyes widened slightly before he nodded, a weight seeming to lift off his frame as he did so.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome little dude,” Finn told him sincerely. “Are you hungry? Mom’s left a plate warming for you.”

“No,” Kurt answered after a few second’s contemplation, “but…if you don’t mind, there’s something I want you to help me do?”

*

Finn wasn’t entirely certain that this was something he should be helping Kurt to do, especially without warning their parents about what was happening. But, what was the alternative? There was no way in hell he could tell him no, especially since it seemed as if Kurt had used all of his courage to make the request in the first place. Besides that, he was pretty certain that Kurt was dead set on doing this, with or without his help, and the last thing Finn wanted was for Kurt with his still healing ribs and single-handedness to start doing the work himself. It was not safe for him to do so. And so, hoping that they would generate enough noise to gain their attention, Finn went along with Kurt’s wishes.

“This one too, bro?” he asked, his hands hovering over Kurt’s huge Wicked poster. It seemed almost sacrilegious for him to even be this close to it in the first place. He knew that this poster meant the world to Kurt, that it was his favourite out of all the ones he had up. It was the only reason he had bothered to have it framed in the first place. Wicked had been the first ever musical Kurt had seen, and, perhaps more importantly, was one of the last major activities he had ever done with his mother.  
He turned back to look at Kurt when he didn’t answer immediately, and, as he half-expected, found a decidedly conflicted expression on Kurt’s face.

“No…” Kurt began, his voice wavering. He stopped, took a deep breath, before saying, “I mean year. Take it down too.”

Finn gave him a few seconds to reconsider, but Kurt had already returned his attention to the drawer he had been rummaging through. Whispering an apology, Finn carefully took it down, trying not to stare at the space left behind. He cradled it carefully to him. “I’ll put this one away in the attic now,” he told him, carefully stepping over piles of things as he made his way to the door. “I remember where your mom’s chest is. It’ll be nice if this stays there with it, right?”

Kurt looked up, surprise evident on his face. “You remembered?”

“I do listen,” Finn told him, “Well…I listen a lot,” he amended, “especially to the important stuff. You keep working on the clothes by the time okay?”

“I will,” Kurt responded, breaking the eye contact between them. 

Finn carefully lodged the poster in its new home, but, instead of immediately going back to Kurt, he headed downstairs. He found their parents in the living room on the couch, watching some sort of documentary type thing that, at a glance, seemed not in the least bit interesting.

“Kurt’s taking his room apart,” he told them. “I’m helping.”

“What?” Burt asked, confused, even as his mom reached for the remote to turn off the television. “He’s doing what?”

Finn started rubbing at the back of his neck as he spoke next. “I think it’s why he panicked yesterday and won’t stay in there. The stuff…it reminds him of what happened. He wants them gone.”

Glancing toward his mom, he saw a contemplative look on her face before she nodded. “It makes sense,” she said, looking toward her husband.”

“Is this a good thing?” Burt asked.

“It’s avoidance,” she responded, with a bit of a shrug. “But, if seeing the stuff bothers him this much, we should just go along with it for now.”

“So we’re going to help him with this,” Burt inquired.

“It’s something to warn his therapist about, but I don’t see anything wrong with doing this.”  
Burt nodded, and, bracing his hands against his thighs, stood with a grunt. “I guess we’re re-decorating today then.”

“Whatever helps,” Carole agreed, “head on up by the time. I’ll get his breakfast.”

*

Finn truly could not believe that Kurt was okay with this. What was left of Kurt’s room was just so plain; it was depressing. While he could not claim that he had ever really understood Kurt’s choice of décor, he could never ever deny the fact that the room had been undeniably Kurt, with everything in it serving as an accurate reflection of the room’s occupant. The room now…? If this was who Kurt wanted to be now then the world had truly lost out on someone amazing.

One of the sole things on the wall now was a medium sized photograph of Kurt’s mother as a child, surrounded by family none of them had ever met that Burt had dug out from the attic as a replacement for the poster. Kurt had left up all the pictures relating to them, but the ones of the glee club? Gone. The ‘vision board’ as Kurt had labelled it filled with cut outs of outfits he loved? Gone. He had left his little white board that he used to scribble stuff on, but it had been scrubbed clean. The curtains, a multi-coloured statement piece (and Finn still did not know what that meant) – had been replaced with plain grey curtains and his bed sheets were now a plain navy blue colour. And while Finn was pretty certain the set was his, he didn’t bother to comment on it. 

The worst thing though, in Finn’s opinion, was the fact that Kurt’s closet and drawers were now largely empty. Nearly all of Kurt’s outfits had been carried out by the handfuls to the attic. Anything brightly coloured or patterned was gone. Only his loosest jeans were left and the majority of his shoe, scarf and hat collection had been boxed as well. That decision had largely been met with stunned silence on their part, but in the end no one had commented on it. Like his mother had said while they were downstairs, right now was about making Kurt feel secure. If this was what he needed to do, then they would do it, even if it killed them to do so.

*

“Well that was an effort and a half,” Burt announced with a sigh as he flopped down beside Carole on the bed.

“What did Kurt need?” she asked, recalling the plaintive edge to the boy’s tone minutes earlier.

“Couldn’t figure out how to get his arm into the tee-shirt,” Burt answered rolling over. “We ended up just putting him in another shirt,” he finished, burying his arms underneath his pillows. “We need to go shopping, okay? He can’t live in Finn’s sweats forever.”

Carole reached over to pat his back consolingly. At times like this she could not help the mild amusement that rose up within her. Burt liked to claim that Kurt had inherited most of his mannerisms from his mother, but this pose right here, with Burt’s face all but buried in the pillow so that his voice was muffled and barely audible? That right there was a gesture she had seen Kurt make many times. 

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” she asked, prodding at him.

Her husband gave a soft grunt before turning his head enough for her to see a bit of his face. “Is it going to get better?” he asked, and it was only then that Carole realised that none of them had openly addressed this yet, the subject of Kurt’s arm.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “We heard what Doctor Timothy said. The knife sliced through nerves they didn’t even realise were located there. Kurt really is a special boy isn’t he?” she half joked trying to relieve the tenseness on Burt’s face. 

“Not many people’s muscles are structured oddly.” It worked as expected because Burt rolled his eyes the slightest bit. “For now we’re going to just hope everything reconnects. If not, there’s the option of surgery to manually do it.”

“But we’re better off waiting?”

“Yeah,” she answered, ignoring the fact that Burt knew all of this. If he wanted to talk things through, she would humour him. 

“They can risk making things worse by interfering and the success rate one hundred percent.”

“But he can heal on his own?”

“Kurt’s strong Burt, and so is his body. I think that he can heal if given the chance. What we need to focus on right now is his mental health.”

Burt let out a long, haggard sigh at that. “He called me daddy,” he muttered, “That only happens when he’s really sick or sad.”

“Technically he’s a bit of both,” she told him mildly.

“A lot of both,” he corrected, shifting a bit more in her direction. “It killed him to ask for help. I saw it in his eyes. Kurt’s always been so independent. The first actual sentence we got out of him as a kid was “No, Kurt do”. He doesn’t like asking for help, doesn’t like relying on people to do things for him, and look what he’s been reduced to now. He can’t even dress himself,” Burt finished thumping his head against the pillow. “He doesn’t deserve this, no one deserves this. What if he can’t get over this Carole?”

“We have to believe that he can,” she responded, leaning closer to him. “If we do not have fate in him, how can we expect him to believe in himself? Things will get better. Keep telling yourself that.”

Burt didn’t respond immediately but instead freed the pillow enough to pat around until he could grasp Carole’s hand. He raised his head enough to kiss it, before, finally, looking at her squarely. “Don’t you leave me, Carole,” he bid, and Carole was struck by the vulnerability in his voice. “I cannot do this by myself.”

“We’ll do this together,” she promised, and bent to kiss his forehead. “We will overcome.”


	9. Chapter 9

"Who was that?" Carole asked curiously, as Burt re-entered the living room, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

"Sarah Hawkings," he responded as he resumed his former position on his armchair. "She thought it would be easier if she just came over here now since she's in Lima instead of us going in to the office tomorrow."

"That makes sense," she responded, marking her spot in her novel before setting it aside. "Good news?"

"She sounded cheerful," he said with a shrug, flipping on the television. "Did Finn text yet?"

"Yeah, they pulled into the therapist's office a few minutes ago. Kurt's not happy but he went in without a fight this time."

"Still think it was a good idea for them to go without one of us?" he asked with a hint of doubt. "Finn's good, but I don't know if he can handle Kurt's mood."

"He said he could handle it Burt," she reminded him, "and we decided to trust them both on this, didn't we? Kurt's comfortable enough with him to allow this to happen, and Finn thinks he can handle the responsibility."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Burt grumbled, transferring his attention to the screen.

Carole rolled her eyes lightly. She knew that Burt wanted nothing more than to be there with their sons, but, as she had argued with him earlier that morning, Finn and Kurt had been pretty independent before all this had begun. If they - Kurt especially - wanted to regain a bit of that independence, it was something to encourage, even if it was only a twenty five minute drive out for counselling. Baby steps. Knowing that the conversation was over between them for now, Carole moved to reclaim her book before her brows crinkled slightly. "Burt...exactly when is Sarah coming here?"

"Eh, within the hour?" he half-asked, voice a bit distracted from the show.

"Burt!" she snapped, annoyance lacing her tone. "And when exactly were you going to mention that little detail?"

"What's it matter?" he asked, sparing her a glance.

"Men," she grumbled, as she hurriedly rose, smacking his arm as she passed him. The rules of etiquette were entirely lost on them most of the time. Grumbling to herself Carole started analysing the fridge and pantry. Yes, she thought with a bit of relief, there was more than enough available to pull together a respectable snack tray for their guest. And, if she decided to make all of the things that Burt liked the least, perhaps that would teach him to impart important information within an acceptable time frame.

*

The conversation among the three adults was light for the most part initially. They glossed from one topic to another between bites of food. Sarah was an interesting person (for a lawyer) Burt would later admit to Carole, and while the reason of her visit did loom over them, Carole would readily acknowledge that the idle chitchat beforehand had been quite refreshing, as was seeing Burt try not to grimace every time he ate hummus or a tuna-paste sandwich. Eventually though, they moved to the real matter at hand.

"Some of our requests have been passed on to the school district entirely for discussion," she explained, after pulling out a notepad littered with jottings. "Some, however, have been resolved."

"Like their suspensions?" Carole asked, her tone taking on a terse edge.

"Yes," Sarah confirmed. "Their suspensions have been revoked and removed from their records."

"Thank God," Carole breathed out, and beside her, Burt squeezed her hand. That was one less thing to worry about, definitely.

"Finn is free to return to school. But you are still considering your options with regards to him, right?"

"We are," Burt responded. 

"Good. I arranged things so that all due assignments can be given to Finn in case you decide he stays. That way he won't fall   
behind."

"What about Figgins?" Burt asked. "There's no point in sending Finn back there with him around. He won't be safe."

"Principal Figgins has been sent on leave pending a thorough investigation," Sarah told them with some satisfaction. "Based on what's been uncovered, there's little that can be done to protect him. At this point the board, and the district are doing damage control. I doubt that man will ever set foot on that compound again."

"So there's no chance he can beat this?"

"Not a chance," she said definitively. "Unless he can find some obscure school that doesn't give a damn about these missteps, Principal Figgin's days in the education sector is over."

"Good," Burt said softly. "A guy who can't protect the kids in his care doesn't deserve that position."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "They've also identified a few teachers against whom disciplinary action will be taken. They haven't been given their suspension letters as yet, but they’re coming."

"Excellent."

"He's also green lighted on his end our request for the district to be held financially accountable for all the medical and legal bills coming out of this."

"I guess this means you're no longer doing this pro-bono," Burt teased.

"Perhaps," she agreed with a laugh, "but that doesn't change the fact that I'm doing this because I want to. I didn't get into law for the money. If that was the case I wouldn't be working in Ohio."

"Thank you Sarah," Burt said, emotion lacing his tone.

"Gotta prove that not all us folks here in Lima are ignorant hicks," she returned jokingly. "Now the only thing the school district I believe the district will be problematic about is the compensation we're demanding. A few of my colleagues have picked up cases for some of the other bullied students. Because of that the district is going to try to lower the amounts they'll inevitably have to pay out, because trust me when I say, especially for this case, they have not a chance in hell of winning. 

They're going to want to settle this out of court, and that'll be to our advantage because they'll be a lot more willing to concede since a jury 

"We're not in it for the money," Burt reminded her, "we don't want to profit from this. It seems...wrong...greedy."

"I understand," she commiserated. "But, unfortunately, money talks and it's the best way to get the district to pay attention and more importantly, do something. The best way to ensure that the school district places pressure on the school board and resultantly the school board on the administration is to hit them where it hurts, their pockets. We're not in it for the money, I think we can all agree on that, but at the same time, we want to send forth a strong message. If you want I can just wait to see what number they throw out, and we can work from there. In the end your sons are better off for it and you two can stop worrying about the college funds I'm sure you're building."

"Don't all parents?" Carole half-joked.

Burt, a bit more serious said, "Just don't overdo it okay? Suing the district...that'll take away resources that could otherwise be used. I don't want others to suffer for this."

"I'll ensure that they're vacationing local this year Burt," she promised him. "No student will be negatively impacted by this."

*

The next few days brought a wind of change to McKinley High. Sue Sylvester, somehow stepped into the role of principal and with her ascension a militant like rule descended upon the school. She went on a rampage, expelling Adams and Karofsky before handing out suspensions to any student who could be identified as a bully from the footage. She personally escorted all guilty teachers out of the school while noting irately that they were lucky that the letters came before her canons arrived. The school now operated under a stringent zero tolerance for bullying policy that was rigorously enforced. A mere taunt would find a student with detention for three days and while it seemed harsh, all could agree that it was needed. The changes came much too late to help Kurt, but, at least they were coming.

The court case was still an ongoing matter - the severity of the charges had increased against Karofsky alone - but Burt had put that on the back burner for now in lieu of dealing with his family's situation. It had taken only a brief conversation between Carole, Finn and himself to realise that Finn should just finish the semester at home. 

They still had the Dalton thing to deal with, but for now, given how tumultuous McKinley's environment was it made no sense to put Finn, who was admittedly part of the catalyst for change, in the middle of all of it. Sylvester, once again, had proved unbelievably helpful, partnering with the guidance counsellor to have all of Finn's remaining assignments compiled into a list for him, as well as organising for him to come in on a Saturday two weeks from now to sit all the written tests that heralded the end of the semester. She had (in a ode to her usual demeanour) gone ahead without their permission and had sent all of Finn and Kurt's documents to Dalton, simply giving Carole a pointed stare when she inquired about it before saying "I won't have my sweet Porcelain damaged again." It was sweet, in a slightly creepy manner, but overall it was a nice change to see the school's administration be more accommodating to them in a way they had never experienced before.

But now, with the majority of things in a semblance of order, Carole knew that there was one thing left for them to discuss. And so, after Finn and Kurt had disappeared upstairs after dinner, Carole dropped Dalton's package onto the kitchen table between them.

"We should at least start going through this," she said, pulling a chair closer to Burt.

"Where do we start?" he said, as numerous papers, booklets and brochures tumbled down onto the table. 

"With the magazine I suppose," she said, sliding the last thing out of the folder. "Fancy," she breathed, taking in the cover. It showed a scenic shot of a mansion with a group of uniformed boys standing in front of it.

"This really is a rich people school," Burt muttered, flipping it open.

"I was on the website while you were out earlier," she told him. "Nearly a quarter of the students there are on scholarships."

Burt whistled before acknowledging, "That eases my fears a bit. Kentwood did give me the impression that the school seems close-knit and accommodating but I'd hate for the boys to be the odd two out."

"There's no football team," Carole noted a few minutes later, "Finn wouldn't like that. He prefers that to basketball. They do have an entire music department," she added with a bit of excitement. "He'd like that...but Kurt..."

"Yeah," Burt agreed, recalling how Kurt and Finn had taken out the last of Kurt's musical effects from his room the day before. 

Carole pressed her hand against her forehand even as she let out a profound sigh. "He's scared," she finally said, "he got hurt in his safe space. Maybe he'll get over it..."

"But maybe he won't," Burt finished. "I feel like we should be making one of those lists of his with all the pros and cons."

"We're adults," she half-teased, nudging his shoulder, "we should be above the level of lists by now."

"Yes ma'am," he agreed before promptly pulling a pencil and paper to him, causing her to snort. "Pro they have a lot of extra curriculars."

"Con, there's no football team."

"Pro, eighty five percent of their students go on to higher education."

"Big con, this school is in Westerville. What's the commute time going to be?"

Carole frowned at that before reaching for her cell phone. "Could be done in an hour and a half."

"Not the best," Burt said musingly, "but not the worst either."

"Mmhmm. Con, the school is a boarding one?"

"Oh wait, I read something about that," he said, quickly flipping back a few pages. "Aha! While boarding is strongly recommended for students to best ensure a full student life experience, it is not mandatory."

"They can have half the experience," Carole grumbled and Burt snickered at that. He agreed, there was no way in hell given the circumstances that he was going to let his sons out of his sight for days on end.

"Pro, the class sizes for electives run between seven to twelve students, and mandatory ones don't exceed twenty."

"Makes for good individual attention."

"Con for Kurt, a uniform."

"Pro for Finn since he barely changes his clothes anyway," she grumbled, causing Burt to laugh outright.

They went back and forth like that for nearly half an hour before they finally got through everything. "Well?" Carole said finally, looking at Burt. "What's the preliminary outlook?"

"We'll have to talk to them about Kurt's schedule. Kentwood said that they can work with us, but Kurt has a lot of stuff to do now."

"We can work with both of them," she pointed out. "We can choose the days for the physical therapy, and the counsellor should be able to adapt as well?"

"Maybe," he agreed. "You realise that this sounds as if we're seriously considering this?"

"What's our other option?" Carole asked, "Carmel High's reputation is only slightly better than McKinley's from what I've seen, and I don't know how safe it'd be to transfer them into a rival school, you know? Can Kurt even function in a normal school system again?" she continued.

"I don’t even know."

"Maybe we should talk to the boys about it? See their view point on this? It does affect them."

"That could work," Burt said, "beside, with a decision like this, we really should involve them."


	10. Chapter 10

Finn offered Kurt a small smile as his head peered around his bedroom door. “Nice nap?” he asked, as he eased his chair back from his desk.

  
“You were with me when I fell asleep,” Kurt groused, and Finn found himself chuckling at the slight pout that crossed his face.

“Sorry, lil bro,” he responded as Kurt dropped down onto his bed with a yawn. “I figured you’d be out for a few hours so I came here to do some work.”

“My room has a desk,” Kurt grumbled as he walked in fully.

“I think loudly.”

Kurt huffed at his response before dropping down onto the bed, only to yawn seconds later. “I hate those pills,” Kurt complained. “How long do I have to take them for?”

“Until they decide otherwise,” Finn said mildly.

Kurt shot him an irritated look, and Finn turned away, not wanting any trace of his amusement to shine through. Kurt in the aftermath of his medication was very open with his emotions, probably because it lowered his inhibitions. While, as was the case yesterday, it led to Kurt becoming morose, right now he seemed to just be a bit childish and churlish, which was sort of cute in its own way.

“What are you doing?” Kurt asked after a moment, and glancing back at him, Finn saw that his annoyed face seemed to have cleared away.

“I’m working on an essay,” he explained, tapping his History book, “about the Industrial Revolution.”

Kurt cocked his head for a moment, “Do I have work I should be doing?” he inquired, and Finn hesitated, because truthfully, he didn’t know how to answer that.

“I don’t think so,” he responded carefully, “this stuff is just for my classes.”

“Oh,” Kurt stated simply, his mouth twisting for a moment before he said, “I start physical therapy tomorrow.”

“I know," he responded, “nervous?”

“What’s going to happen?” he asked, “doesn’t that usually involve doing…stuff? This can’t do anything,” he added, giving his right arm a self-depreciating flick.

“I really don’t know,” Finn admitted, “I remember back when I broke my arm I had some exercises and stuff to do after I got the cast off but I don’t think that’d work in this case.”

“Because I’m actually supposed to have the ability to do something?” Kurt asked in a sort of dry tone that had Finn feeling a bit sheepish. “Anyway,” Kurt said, “I guess Mrs. Smith teaches your class out of order because I already did the Industrial Rev. Want my notes?”

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” Finn said, allowing the change of topic. It was a bit weird to gauge his mood at times, but in moments like this, as Kurt sort of stomped out, Finn had learnt to just go along with it. He wouldn’t say that he was walking on eggshells around him, but he was actively trying to keep him from slipping into one of his darker moods. Sometimes they would encounter a topic or situation that he and his parents would believe would disturb Kurt, only for it to illicit nothing more than a shrug or noncommittal response from him, but other things, random things, could leave him morose or at times, angry. There had been no panic attack since that first day, but Finn was pretty certain that it was something on all of their minds.

None of them wanted a repeat of that.

 

*

 

If the frustration bleeding off Kurt's frame was anything to go by, it was clear that his first physical therapy session had not at all gone well. Finn looked up from his textbook from his spot at the kitchen counter as Kurt stomped past, heading for the stairs.

"Take your time bud," Burt called out, seemingly in vain because seconds later Finn heard a distinctive thump that was becoming all too familiar. He made to rise, but Burt was already hurrying past, raising a staying hand to him. Sighing, Finn settled back down, only half listening to Burt's reassuring words as he undoubtedly helped Kurt up and Kurt's own harsher replies before finally the duo made their way up the stairs. It wasn't until the first time that Kurt, seemingly not paying attention to his body, ended up on the floor. It seemed odd the first time it had happened, but, as his mother explained to him, Kurt had to re-learn how to control his body in its entirety. The loss of feeling in his arm meant that his body was instinctively adjusting to a limb it had 'lost'. In doing so, Kurt's perception of himself would take a few days to acclimatise to the new normal, and that new normal in this case meant learning how to navigate stairs and such quickly without the benefit of his arm to steady him.

Shaking his head, Finn forced himself back into the world of plate tectonics. Thankfully, he thought as he highlighted a bit of text, studying properly really was a lot like riding a bike. His brain remembered how to do it, and now that he was actively utilising his old techniques, he was getting back into the swing of things. Finn would honestly not be surprised if, by the time he submitted all of his work, he would find a big difference in his grades.

"Kurt's settled in for now," Burt said a while later, as he walked into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. "How's your work coming along, son?"

"Pretty good," he replied, looking up. "I've started studying for the quizzes I'm doing this weekend. I think I'll do well."

Burt shot him a proud smile. "Good job Finn." Burt leant against the kitchen corner, sipping on a glass of juice for a moment before saying, "There's something your mom and I want to talk to you about later."

"About Dalton?" Finn guessed, before grinning slightly when the man shot him a surprised look.

"How do you know about that?"

"You guys left the stuff down on the counter," Finn answered. "I came down for a late snack and saw it."

Burt looked chagrined for a moment. "Yeah," he told him, "that's what we want to talk to you about. But since you already know, any thoughts so far?"

Finn was silent for a moment, drumming his fingers against the table as he gathered his thoughts. "I read through the list you guys had made...their sports department isn't that great."

"And sports mean a lot to you," Burt acknowledged.

Finn nodded. The school was a fancy one, there was no way around that, and their offerings correlated to that. There was basketball yes, but no American football. There was soccer, lacrosse, tennis, swimming, dance and even martial arts among others. Not that they were bad endeavours by any stretch, but Finn loved football, it was the first sport he had ever tried, and while McKinley's team was far from being great, he enjoyed playing.

"I don't think we should go," Finn told him, "Kurt shouldn't be there."

"Why not?" Burt asked, and Finn noted that the man wasn't at all judgemental about it; he genuinely wanted to know his thoughts on the matter.

"It's a new place, full of new people - all of who are guys. Kurt...don't you think he needs stability right now? He should be here, with us, where he can be comfortable. There are other options like online schooling. He could do that, we could do that."

"But you would be with him at Dalton, and don't you think that homeschooling would be a bit boring after a while?"

"Is mom really going to take me out of McKinley too?"

"We haven't decided yet son," Burt told him honestly, setting aside the glass before taking a seat at the table. "It's why we made the deal with the school for you to finish this semester at home, just in case. We're keeping an eye on what's happening, and yes, with Figgins gone, things really do seem to be changing, and for the better. What we're really considering is if you'd be comfortable returning to the school once again. That's out of the question for Kurt," Burt stated and Finn nodded, recalling how Kurt had paled the night before when Finn (rather unthinkingly to be fair) had asked him if he wanted to go with him and Carole to collect his latest batch of assignments.

"I think I would be fine," Finn answered carefully. "I must be you know? The therapist only carded me for one more week of sessions."

"Whereas Kurt's file has an infinity sign in it," Burt said, and Finn, despite himself chuckled at the man's dark humour.  
"If you really want Kurt to go to Dalton, I'll go too," Finn said, "but only if we're together all the time."  
Burt reached out and clasped the teenager's shoulder. "Son, I know how you feel, and I know how you think, but the reason why we're considering if to send you to Dalton isn't just because we want Kurt not to be alone you know. We want what is best for the both of you, and like I said earlier, I know how important football is to you."  
Finn swallowed. "I'd give it up for him."

"This isn't about sacrificing Finn," Burt told him gently, "this is an adjustment curve for all of us, but we're going to find a system that works for all of us. So please, think about the options, and decide what you think is best for you. This is a decision we're all going to make together, and we'll see how it meshes in the end. Carole and I haven't given much thought to online schooling as an option so far, but now I know that that's a next avenue we can look at. What I want for you to do is to think about yourself, the pros and cons for each. McKinley, Dalton or home school. We have a few more days before we really do need to make a decision, so you'll let us know, okay?"

"And Kurt?" Finn couldn't help but ask, "what options are you going to give him?"

"Home or Dalton," Burt answered, "the only way I'd let him walk back through McKinley's doors is if I'm next to him for every second of the day."

Finn smiled at that, but nodded regardless. He really did have some thinking to, he acknowledged. He would make the decision that was best for him and Kurt.

*

  
Kurt's mood was still off when he came into the kitchen a few hours later, but he was amiable enough to assist Finn when needed with an English essay he had now turned his attention to. Occasionally his comments were a little too much on the snide side, but Finn took it in stride easily. It was nice to hear Kurt's snark, even if it came from his temper rather than from his innate self.

"Why don't you just respond?" Kurt said after the third time within a few minutes that Finn's phone whistled. "It's probably important."

Finn shook his hand dismissively. "It's just Rachel," he responded, "I can do without her complaining about not having a duet partner and not going out for a bit."

"Oh," Kurt said, before turning his attention back to Finn's draft. He was silent for nearly five minutes save for occasionally tapping on a word that needed its spelling fixed before starting to speak, hesitantly, saying, "Why don't you...go out with her? You've been working a lot, and you've hardly left the house. It might be nice."

"I'm where I want to be," Finn said simply, reaching over to nudge his arm affectionately. "Rachel will be fine without me for a while."

"You sure?" Kurt asked, glancing up at him briefly.

"I am," Finn reassured him.

"Because you can if you want," Kurt told him, "I-I'm not an invalid. I can stay by myself."

"I never said you were," Finn replied gently. "Don't worry about it."

"I can do things you know," Kurt half-snapped, his expression darkening, "I don't need anyone to babysit me."

"Hey now," Finn began, surprised, "I never said-"

"You don't need to accommodate me Finn," Kurt interrupted, "you can go out with Rachel, with all of them. You should go. Just leave me here, I'll be fine."

"Dude," Finn said, "where is this coming from?"

"I can see it on your face," Kurt said, his voice warbling a bit now, even as he continued speaking. In his eyes, in addition to the tumultuous emotions rising within them, Finn saw a hint of confusion; it was as if Kurt wasn't even really sure why he was becoming so upset about this, but it wasn't enough to dissuade him from continuing to speak. "You think I'm to be pitied, don't you? You think I can't be left home by myself. Well I can be, you know! You don't have to sit around wasting time on me like this. So why don't you go? I-I don't need you. I can do it all on my own."

"I know that you could do anything if you really wanted to Kurt," Finn said gently, trying to soothe him, "things are just a bit different for now, but you can do it."

"Exactly!" Kurt snapped, rising, "You don't need to baby me, nobody needs to baby me. I'm fine. I-I'm normal, perfectly normal. So why don't you just go, huh? Go back to school, back to Rachel, back to them. I don't need you here with me. I'm fine, great!"

"Kurt," Finn began, standing as well, "I need you to calm down for me, okay?"

"I don't need to calm down, I just need for you to get on with your life. Don't stop yours because I-I didn't mean that. I'm normal, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm normal."  
"Kurt-"

"No don't touch me!" Kurt shouted as Finn made to reach for him, "stay away from me!"

Kurt turned, stumbled a bit before hurrying out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. Finn followed, but only stood at the bottom watching to ensure that Kurt made it to the top safely.

He wasn't too sure exactly what the hell had just happened, or where Kurt's sudden anger had come from, but, for now, he decided, it was probably just best to leave him on his own for a bit; hopefully he could sort out the confusion in his head.

*

  
Kurt wasn't sure exactly how much time he had spent curled up on the window seat in his room. It had to be at least an hour he thought, given the ache in his back from being hunched over for far too much time, but still, he couldn't bring himself to move. His nose itched, and reaching up, Kurt brushed a stray tear that had someone made its way onto his nose. He didn't know what was happening to him, why he was acting like this. He hadn't meant to yell at Finn like that, he didn't even know why he had gotten as upset as he had. Finn hadn't done anything, and yet he had gotten so mad and had yelled at him in a way that Finn didn't deserve. He had hurt him, he knew it. He would have followed him up if he wasn't upset by what he had done.

Kurt sniffed as he straightened, allowing his head to rock back against the side of the wall. He reached over and picked up his arm which had just been flopping there and dropped it into his lap. He had lied to Finn; he knew he wasn't at all normal, not anymore. Maybe he had never been? He supposed now he was even more abnormal. Kurt sniffed again and wiped away a tear. He didn't know how he had any left; he couldn't remember the last time he had cried that much. He didn't understand how it worked, how he could go from being genuinely curious about why Finn wasn't responding to his phone, to him yelling at him, and then, minutes later, dissolving into tears. What was wrong with him?

He was startled from his thoughts by a light knock on his door. He didn't bother to respond, and, seconds later, the door crept open and he saw Carole there. Right, he thought absentmindedly, he had heard a car door close a few minutes before. She had a concerned expression on her face, and Kurt opened his mouth to say something, anything to her, but the only thing that passed his lips was a sob before he bent his head. She was across the room in seconds, and Kurt submitted easily, allowing her to shift him around so she could fit there as well before pulling him into her arms. Kurt cried anew, taking comfort from the way her hand rubbed at the back of his neck and occasionally reaching up to play at the ends of his hair. She didn't speak, just hummed in a soft way that told Kurt where exactly Finn had gotten his singing voice from.

Eventually Kurt's tears slowed, and, reluctantly he pulled back. He didn't know where she pulled a handkerchief from, but he remained passive as she gently brushed away the moisture from his face.

"I was wondering when this would happen," she said softly as she patted his skin. "I expected it sooner honestly."

"You expected me to cry?" Kurt asked, his voice croaking.

"I expected you to break down," she corrected, "and yes, crying is a part of that."

"I yelled at Finn," he admitted sorrowfully.

"I know," she answered, "but that's okay."

"It isn't. He'll never forgive me."

"He will," she rebutted, bopping his nose with a finger before pocketing the handkerchief again. "He's not at all mad at you, Kurt. He just didn't know what to do."

"Why did I do that?" Kurt asked her.

Carole sighed. "You've gone through a very traumatic experience Kurt," she explained slowly, "and you're still dealing with the results of that. In such cases it's pretty normal for people's emotions and ability to control such emotions to change...worsen if you will. And that's what's happening. It's scary, I know, but it's not your fault. You just need to relearn control of it, and that's what the therapy sessions and to a latter extent the medication is for."

"Should I have taken something?" he asked, "I didn't."

"Not necessarily," she said, "your medication isn't to stop you from reacting or feeling anything. It's there to prevent you from panicking or else slipping too deep down into...sadness. But dealing with your emotions is also quite healthy, and unless you're feeling overwhelmed by what is within you right now, or feel like you can't climb out of it, you don't need to take anything outside of your regular dosage later on today."

Kurt nodded. "I feel helpless, Carole," he admitted. "I-I can't even put on a tee-shirt by myself. I-"

"Tell me," she pressed gently, "Talking helps. Tell me."

"It's weird," Kurt said, "and it makes me...panicky. My arm's like a noodle...I'd have to hold it and p-push it into the sleeve because it's useless, and I-I can't, Carole I-"

Carole reached out and grasped has both arms, "Breathe Kurt," she bid, "breathe."

It was only at her directive that Kurt realised that his breathing had started to grow spotty- it was audible to his own ears.

He forced himself to slow his breathing, and a minute or so later, Carole released him.

"Sorry."

"No apologies," she told him, cupping his face. "This is all a part of the process. We can take things one step at a time. There's no rush. Maybe in a week you'll feel okay to try a shirt by yourself."

"I can't button jeans," he bemoaned.

Carole sat back, a small smile playing at her lips despite his morose tone. "Have you tried?" she asked.

"What?"

"Have you tried?"

"No," he admitted, "I've just been wearing Finn's sweatpants. Don't tell him."

"I think it's fairly obvious Kurt," she teased glancing down at the pants Kurt was all but swimming in. The bottoms of them were haphazardly rolled up. It was a credit to her older son that he had not teased Kurt about it as yet. "Finn's arm was out of commission for a few weeks once."

"He mentioned it."

"Do you think he never wore jeans for that time?"

"You buttoned it?"

"No, I think he would have died from the embarrassment. He figured it out though. It's not easy, and it takes some effort, and maybe you shouldn't start with the tightest pair, but I think you can do it."

"You think so?" Kurt asked, a bit doubtful.

"I know so Kurt," she said. "Now," she added, rising, "I know one boy in this house who has not had lunch. How about you freshen up a bit and come down hmm? I'll make you grilled cheese," she added cajolingly.

Despite himself, Kurt smiled a bit. "Tomato soup?" he asked, almost hesitantly.

"Anything you want, my boy," she responded, reaching out to ruffle his hair for a moment before standing, and, giving him a brief kiss to the forehead, walked out the room.

Kurt felt a bit lighter now, and while he dreaded facing Finn again, he was a bit hopeful that he had not ruined everything between them.

*

  
This was beginning to be a habit, Finn thought with some amusement as he sat up to Kurt beside him. At least this time he had just gotten under the covers, Finn thought as he took his phone from under his pillow to check at the time. Nearly five he saw. He had been sleeping for a while. Finn hadn't known what the best route to take once Kurt had stormed off from him was, and so, after standing outside of his door for a while just to ensure that he wasn't hearing any sounds that were worrisome, he had gone to his room for a bit. Knowing his mom's schedule, he had caught her just a few minutes after her morning shift had ended, and upon her advice had just decided to relax and let everything unfold as it was meant to. That, apparently, had led to a nearly four hour nap he acknowledged, as he eased himself off the bed, before stretching.

  
Scratching absently at his stomach he crossed the room, only to stop short as he saw a covered plate on his table. Curious he uncovered it, only to smile as he saw three poptarts there, not toasted. Now that was a Kurt move, he thought, and looking back shot him a grateful look as he bit into one. He really was hungry. Dropping down into his chair, he eyed the younger teen contemplatively while chewing on his snack. He didn't at all hold what had happened against Kurt, but he was starting to think that maybe Kurt being in the house for days on end was not exactly the best thing for him. He needed a break, hell, he amended, they both did. Going back and forth from the house to various forms of therapy just wasn't cutting it.

Tomorrow, Finn decided, a playful smile crossing his face. He turned, and waking his laptop, pulled up a search engine. Lima was definitely out, but he could see what he could make happen for them.


	11. Chapter 11

"Wakey wakey Kurt," Finn sang, jostling the edge of Kurt’s mattress to rouse him. “Come on,” he added, when Kurt simply flopped over, burying his face further into his pillow. “We’ve got places to be lil bro. Wake up.”

“No more therapy,” Kurt grumbled, his voice raspy.

“To therapy today,” Finn confirmed, dropping down onto the bed heavily, causing Kurt to crack an eye to glare blearily at him.

“Sleepy,” he grumbled, before closing his eye again.

“Hey, none of that,” Finn protested, and reach over to take the pillow away from him, causing Kurt to groan and kick at him in retaliation.

“Go away,” he grumbled, rolling over away from him. 

“You’ve been asleep for nearly ten hours. We gotta leave soon, come on.”

“Got nowhere to be,” came Kurt’s slightly muffled response.

“Got somewhere to be,” Finn contradicted.

Kurt made a disgruntled sound, and rolled over, glaring at him openly now, something Finn found hilarious given the state of his hair.

“Aww, don’t look like that dude,” he teased. “Today’s a fun day.”

Kurt didn’t respond. Instead he muttered something under his breath that Finn couldn’t quite hear before he shuffled toward the end of the bed. Finn grinned triumphantly when he stood and went into his bathroom, certain he would remain up now.   
He checked the time on his watch. It was a little after nine now; they had about fifty minutes left before they absolutely had to be out of the house.

A few minutes later, Kurt, considerably more awake, came back into his room, eyeing him curiously. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice a lot closer to its usual tone.

"We've been cooped up here a lot lately," Finn explained, as he finished adjusting the sheets on Kurt’s bed. “I think cabin fever is setting in. I figure we could disappear for the day."  
Kurt's curious expression shifted to caution. “I don’t know Finn,” he hedged, “I don’t think I want to.”

“We’re not staying in Lima,” Finn reassured him, interjecting a hint of cajoling into his voice. “Think about it Kurt, you, me, an epic Hudmel trip out to discover the world. Wind in our hair, all the right tunes…it’ll be great!”

“What movie did you watch?” Kurt retorted, brows furrowing, even as his left hand wrapped around his torso.

“That’s not important,” Finn responded. “You’re in, right?”

Kurt hesitated, his gaze shifting to the window. “You definitely have something planned?” he finally asked.

"Well just the get out of Lima part right now," he replied honestly, "but it sounds good doesn't it Kurt? No therapy, no school work, no lying about the house. I already filled up the Nav’s tank and prepped the radio. All that’s missing is you and me. What do you say, huh?”

Kurt's mouth twisted as he considered it. Finn knew that he was asking a lot out of him, but he was also certain that this was exactly what Kurt, hell, what they both needed right now. They would be better off for it, he just knew it.

"We can come back right?" he inquired and internally, Finn cheered. He had him.

"As soon as you want to," he promised, “no questions asked.”

"Okay," Kurt said finally. "Now get out. I have to dress."

"Okay," Finn agreed jovially, standing up. "I'll get you an apple for now okay? Yell if you need me."

"I will," Kurt replied, a bit more subdued now. Finn gently clasped him on his shoulder as he passed, before leaving him to it.

*

"I'm ready," Kurt said, walking into the kitchen, nearly twenty minutes later.

"Good, I have your-" Finn's words stopped abruptly as he turned, taking in his brother's appearance. Was that really...? "You're wearing jeans," he said, a bit dumbly.

Kurt shrugged, and Finn was well aware that he was affecting a casual tone when he said, "Is it that shocking?"

"No," Finn responded, striving for normalcy. He wasn’t sure if he could make a big deal out of it; their trip could potentially end before it had a chance to truly begin if he did so. "I suppose that means my sweats are safe again?" he joked instead.

"Not a chance," Kurt retorted, his cheeks colouring, "that took an effort and a half. Tie my laces please?”

"Sure thing," Finn responded, coming over. He handed Kurt a plate of apple slices before stooping, and deftly righting the mess of an effort Kurt had made. He made a mental note to see if Velcro shoes came in adult sizes as he straightened.

"I dug around in the attic last night," he said, glancing up at him, "found my old sling." He jerked his head toward the counter, and looking in that direction, Kurt saw it. It was a plain blue, and, if it wasn’t for the fact that the cream straps were discoloured with age, Kurt would not have guessed that it was several years old.

"Oh?" 

"Figured it would make things easier?" Finn explained hesitantly. He had assumed that Kurt wouldn’t want extra attention drawn to him if he needed to manually manipulate his limb. "I mean, no one is going to look twice at a teenager with an arm in a sling right?"

"Right," Kurt agreed, although his voice didn’t seem quite certain. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Hopefully," Finn agreed. "Now eat up," he bid, "and we'll get going."

*

"How much further?" Kurt asked, irritation lacing his tone. "Why are we doing this?"

"We're about ten minutes from Cridersville," Finn responded patiently, ignoring the fact that this was the third time Kurt had asked that in the last few minutes. "We'll eat first thing, okay?"

"There's nothing of worth there," Kurt pointed out, ignoring his words. "I've been here before."

"I'm sure the good folks of Cridersville say the same thing about Lima," Finn shot back. 

"Lima's a town at least. We're going to a village, Finn. Is your idea of fun a village?"

Finn snickered; he couldn't resist it. This trip was already proving to be a success for the mere fact that Kurt was being so snippy. That was normal Kurt behaviour and that was exactly what Finn wanted to see. 

"I'm not eating here,” Kurt added, not at all realising how amusing his brother was finding his complaining. "We don't know the quirks of the restaurants here."

“Quirks?”

“You know, like never eating the breadsticks.”

Finn chuckled at that. “We’re eating there,” Finn said as they finally entered the village’s zone, lifting a hand off the wheel to point at a nearby golden ‘M’.

“That’s even worse,” he groused. “I refuse.”

“I can hear your stomach Kurt,” Finn replied mildly. 

"Pre-mature indigestion.”

Finn laughed outright at that. “You’ll love it,” he finally said as he pulled into the small car park.

"I won't."

"Mmhmm."

Still jovial, Finn switched off the engine, releasing first his and then his brother's seatbelt, Kurt's scowl only increasing his merriment. "Let's go lil bro," he bid.

"We drove one town over for Mc Donald's?" Kurt asked sceptically as, reluctantly, he exited the vehicle. "I know you love food, but seriously, this is your idea of fun? We could have gotten this in Lima"

"Such a complainer you are today," he teased as they reached the restaurant’s doors and he held one open for him. "This McDonald's doesn't have people who know us," he said, shooting Kurt a pointed look.

A look of clarity crossed his face. "Oh," he said simply, and walked into the restaurant, shrugging off his coat as he did. The restaurant was largely empty; there were only two families there, both with young children who, for now at least, were quiet as they munched on fries and chicken strips. 

Finn gently shoved Kurt in the direction of one of the free booths near a window. "Go on, I'll order."

"I want a salad," Kurt declared, looking back at him.

"My treat, my choice," Finn declared, heading for the cashier. As he waited, he pulled out his phone. Nope, no calls or messages. He supposed that his mother hadn't gotten home as yet.

Ten minutes later, Finn found himself on the end of a disbelieving stare. "You cannot be serious," Kurt hissed as he took in the two laden trays in his hands. "That's enough for an army."

"Kurt meet army," he quipped, as he set down a tray and patted his stomach.  
Setting down the other, he slipped into the booth across from him, nudging a tray closer to his side. "Everything's chicken for you," he explained, "You have a chicken sandwich, large fries, some nuggets and a Mc Flurry. Oh...and orange juice...to, you know, be healthy."

"I wanted a salad," Kurt grumbled.

"Fries are made from potatoes, and potatoes are vegetables," Finn declared proudly, before snagging a fry and chewing on it with relish. Hot, salty deliciousness, oh how he missed it.

Kurt hesitated for a bit longer, and just when Finn was ready to prod at him, tentatively reached out and took a long fry,   
nibbling at it.

"When's the last time you've had this?" he couldn't help but ask.

"It's been years," Kurt replied, reaching for a next one. "It's not healthy."

And yet Finn was pretty certain that there was a spark of pleasure in Kurt’s eyes as he stuffed the fry into his mouth. "It's not like I eat it daily."

Kurt didn’t bother to respond, and Finn politely didn’t tease him when he snagged a few more and started eating them with a bit more speed. 

"Why did you want to come here?" Kurt asked eventually, as he alternated among the fries, nuggets and sandwich. Finn was more of a one item at a time sort of eater, but he could acknowledge the reasoning to Kurt's strategy.  
He took a large sip from his coke before responding. "It's a tradition."

"Tradition?" Kurt asked curiously.

Finn ate a bit more before he explained, a sentimental look rooting itself on his face. "Yeah, started back in elementary I think," Finn answered, "or at least that's the first time I can remember. I had had a horrible day. Baseball wasn't really my sport but I didn't really know that back then. I cost my team the win and I was heartbroken by it. I remember just sitting there on the bench after the game was done, wallowing in pity. Mom was there. I don't even know how she managed that because she worked so many shifts back then, but there was she was all of a sudden, smiling and telling me it wasn't the end of the world.

"She carried me to Mc Donalds and ordered two Happy meals and we just sat in there, sort of like this really and ate our meals. Then she pulled out our toys and we played with them until I was laughing again. Everything seemed fine all of a sudden. It stuck after that. Anytime one of us was having a horrible day, we'd go to McDonalds. Of course now I can get it myself now and a Happy meal is nothing more than an appetizer but yeah, it helps me feel better."  
Kurt looked at him for a moment, before a soft smile worked its way onto his face. “That sounds adorable Finn,” he admitted.  
Finn nodded. “It was nice. I mean mom didn’t have a lot of extra money, so it was a cheap way for us to just hang out together, and talk, you know? I didn’t understand half of what she was saying sometimes, but it didn’t matter. We were together, and the food was good, and I got a toy out of the deal.”

Kurt chuckled at that. "Thanks for sharing this with me then," he told him softly.

"It's no problem," Finn replied sincerely and went back to his own food.

*

“I’m sorry I freaked out yesterday,” Kurt said after most of their food had been consumed.

“It’s cool dude,” Finn said immediately. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone,” Kurt continued, playing around with half a nugget. “I see how much trouble I’m causing.”

“It’s not trouble Kurt,” Finn told him firmly.

“You have to spend so much time with me now,” Kurt continued, as if he had not spoken. “You didn’t sign up for that. I don’t want to keep you back.”

“Hey,” Finn said, causing Kurt to look up at him, “listen to me Kurt. No one is forcing me to do anything, not our parents, not you. Everything I do is because I want to, okay?”

“Yeah but…”

“But what?” Finn pressed, when Kurt drifted off in favour of biting at his lip. “And stop that,” he added.

Kurt released his nip, but refused to meet Finn’s gaze when he spoke next. “We…we never really did stuff together before. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do things with me now. I don’t want your pity…it’s good enough that you saved me…I’m okay with just that.”

Finn sat back, a wave of sadness washing through him at the tentativeness to Kurt’s words. He knew that Kurt did not mean what he was saying, knew that him being around so much now was something that his younger brother was deeply grateful now. And yet, Finn could not fault him for what he was saying. Indeed, he was a bit surprised that it had not come up before now.

“I know that I didn’t pay you that much attention before,” Finn admitted, framing his words carefully. “Even when you tried to get us to do stuff together, I would blow you off a lot. That was because I was being stupid Kurt. That was before when I was silly enough to think that being popular mattered more than us being family, being brothers. That changed the moment I saw what they were doing for you. Maybe if I’d done more from the start to help you it would never have happened.”

“Finn-“

“Let me finish,” he bid. “I’m not doing anything for you out of pity Kurt; please do not see it that way. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding weird, but, something changed for me in that moment. I got my priorities in order, and you’re one of those priorities.”

Kurt swallowed, and, when he briefly met his gaze, Finn saw the faint sheen of tears in Kurt’s eyes. “I just always wanted you to be my friend,” he said softly.

Finn smiled, and reached across the table to flick at his nose, drawing a bit of a laugh from him. “Well I’m more than that now,” he replied. “I’m your brother now Kurt, and nothing is ever going to change that.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Is that a lake over there?" 

"More like a pond," Kurt replied, looking to where Finn was pointing.   
The village was indeed small, so small, that they had already experienced most of it, sometimes ducking into stores while at others just looking inside through display windows. They had almost reached the end the point where infrastructure slowly melded into trees and shrubberies when Finn had pointed out the body of water. It was across the road from where they were standing in front of an ice-cream parlour, and, looking at it, Kurt sort of wished there were a couple of swans swimming across it to complete the rather quaint image he was seeing.

“There’re benches,” he pointed out, looking up at Finn.

“Want to go over there?” Finn asked. “You’re warm enough?”

Kurt nodded. The air had indeed grown a bit chilly, but not so much that he wanted to flee back into the warmth of the Navigator.

“Let’s go,” he responded, smiling when Finn settled a hand on his back as they crossed the road.

"Have you had a good day?" Finn asked as they dropped down onto a bench.

Kurt nodded. "I didn't think I would," he admitted. "I thought I’d just be humouring you for an hour or so, but I actually liked this. I-I never actually saw myself leaving the house again."

"You were starting to resemble it," Finn teased. "We should do this more often."

Kurt nodded, and stared out into the distance for a minute before saying softly. "You know you don't have to stay with me?" 

“I know.”

“And you don’t have to stay away from everyone just because I don’t want to see them.”

"I am where I want to be," Finn answered, staring at Kurt’s bent head. 

“Yeah but we’ve been spending a lot of time together these past few days. Aren’t you tired of me?”

“Are you tired of me?” Finn shot back, before chuckling at the fervour with which Kurt shook his head.

“You know Kurt, a bit part of why I’m around so much is because I’m not in school. And it’s not the reason why of course, but do you really think mom would have let me roam around Lima during school hours? I would have been home anyway. I’m home with you by choice. Remember that. You don’t have to feel like you owe me anything.”

“I didn’t really consider school,” Kurt said, a bit chagrined as he looked at him. “What’s happening with that anyway?”

“With what?”

“School and us?” he asked, hesitantly.

Finn paused to think, wondering if this was a conversation the pair of them should be having with each other. But then again, he decided, if Kurt wanted to know then he had a right to. Did it really matter who the information was coming from? “Burt took you out of McKinley,” he said carefully.

“So I’m a high school drop out?”

The slight squeak to Kurt’s words drew a snort from Finn, despite the situation. “No chance of that kid. We both know that I’m the more likely one of us to screw up this whole school thing. “

“Then what’s going to happen?”

“We have options,” Finn hedged.

Kurt sucked on his lower lip for a few seconds. “Something happened didn’t it?” he inquired. “Beyond your suspension…something you guys haven’t told me.”

“It’s for your own good,” Finn told him seriously, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. Under no circumstances did he need to know what Figgins had tried to do to him. He knew that Kurt would not be able to handle it, not in the state he was in. 

Kurt huffed, a flash of annoyance crossing his expression before it cleared. "Where does it leave me?"

"Mom and Burt are supposed to talk to you about it," Finn hedged, turning to look out at the water in front of them.

"But you know, don't you?" Kurt guessed, resting a hand against his thigh to so that Finn would look at him again. "Please Finn, tell me."

"Kurt-"

"Please don't treat me like an imbecile," Kurt pleaded, his eyes wide as he looked up at him. "I'm already an invalid, but I have my mind. So please, just tell me?"

Finn wanted to argue against that, to protest that Kurt’s recent behaviour was proof enough that he needed the delicate approach they were using with him. But now, with Kurt looking at him with such open vulnerability, Finn could not hide the truth from him. This was Kurt asking his brother to trust that he knew himself enough to know what he could or could not handle. It would be an insult to him and a blow to whatever smattering remnants of pride Kurt still had if he refused. 

"You remember that rich school in Westerville?" he asked, caving. 

"Dalton?" Kurt said, after a few seconds of thought. 

"Yeah, well, they've offered us scholarships to attend there. Mom and Burt are considering it."

Kurt was silent for a while, and when Finn looked at him, he saw a distant look on his face, as if he was lost in thought. "Why would they send us there?" he finally asked.

"I'm not completely sure," Finn admitted. “But the stuff I saw…some of it looks good.”

"Do you want to go?" Kurt asked then, his brows drawing together.

"Do you want to go?" Finn rebutted.

"Do they want us to go?"

"They want to know if we want to go."

"Oh."

"Yeah oh," Finn finished with a bit of a sigh. 

Kurt nibbled on his lip again. “What do you think we should do?”

"I don't want you to base your decision off what I want," Finn said, looking at him. "I want you to listen to everything they'll   
tell you, read the same things I have and then tell me, tell us, what you want."

"And if I say no?" he asked quietly. “Is that even an option?”

"Of course it is,” he reassured. “There’s always homeschooling."

"And if I say yes?"

"Yay uniforms," Finn deadpanned, and Kurt chuckled at his tone. 

They lapsed into silence for a bit, both of them lost in their own musings before Kurt declared. "I'm cold. Let's see if that parlour sells anything hot before we head back okay? It’s getting late."

"Let's," Finn agreed, rising. 

The sign of how long the pair had been in the town showed as they waited to cross the road. School was out, and, as they reached the parlour, they found themselves standing in line behind what appeared to be a couple of middle-schoolers. Kurt's lips quirked as he saw a rather burly pre-teen standing between a blonde and brunette. He nudged Finn lightly in the ribs as they haggled over whose sundae order he would put in first. Finn, realising what Kurt was pointing him to, rolled his eyes and gently nudged him back, drawing a laugh from Kurt. It caught the attention of the children in front, and the trio turned eyeing them briefly. The blonde girl was the only one whose attention remained on them, and Finn felt Kurt tense as her stare lingered on his arm. 

"How'd you break it?" she asked with the refreshing bluntness only a pre-teen with no sense for tack had.

Finn didn’t know it was possible, but somehow Kurt tensed even more. A quick glance at his face showed Finn that all of the progress they had made over the past few hours had been eradicated with that one question, if he wasn’t entirely sure why..

"My brother's a bit shy," Finn said quickly as the silence grew awkward. "He was in an accident that damaged his arm."

"That's an old sling," she pointed out next and Finn resisted the urge to glare at her as Kurt took a backward step.

"He got his original one dirty," Finn said easily, the lies coming way too easily to him, "so mom put him in my old one for today."

"Oh," the girl said, and, apparently bored of the conversation, thankfully turned back around.

"Do you want to go?" Finn whispered immediately positioning himself so that the children were out of Kurt's view. "We can get   
coffees somewhere else."

Kurt gave a single, jerky nod. Finn wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and shuffled him away, not bothering to try to make small talk. Kurt was passive as Finn secured him in the Navigator before hurrying into the nearest food like store, knowing that Kurt was done with social interaction for today.

As fast as possible, Finn secured the drinks and returned to the car.

"Get this off me," Kurt demanded immediately, tugging at the sling. "You put it too tight. I can't get it off me."

Finn settled the coffee on the dashboard and quickly reached around to release it. "I'm sorry. This was a stupid idea. We shouldn’t have come here."

"N-no," Kurt said, surprising him. He looked at him curiously, even as he tossed the sling onto the back seat. "I-it was okay,”   
Kurt elaborated, his voice a bit brittle. “But no more sling," he repeated firmly.

"Why?" Finn asked carefully. "Help me understand, Kurt.”

"My arm's not broken," he answered, "well it is but not broken like that. I can't...I can't walk around telling a lie. I can't lie about this. I can't lie to myself."

"Because a broken arm heals," Finn softly deduced, and Kurt gave an agreeing grunt. "Okay, no more sling," he promised. 

He passed the coffee to Kurt and thankfully, he set about drinking it immediately, relaxing as he did.

"This was a good day," Kurt said after he had drained his cup.

His tone was almost normal, and while Finn doubted that he had fully put the incident behind him, he was willing to play along with his desire for normalcy. "Well worth getting out the house huh?" Finn asked.

"Yeah. I was difficult this morning. Sorry."

"It's okay," Finn told him easily. "Besides, I already know how you can make it up to me.”

“How?” he asked cautiously, as he recognised the hint of deviousness in the taller teen’s voice.

“Well, technically I didn’t tell mom or Burt about our trip today, and maybe there’s a possibility they’ve been blowing up my phone.”

“Finn!”

“So maybe you can come up with a way to keep me un-grounded for the next year.”

“You’re on your own,” Kurt grumbled. “I am an unwilling victim in all of this.”

“Hey! I got you fries!”

“I wanted a salad,” came the pert response.

“You’ll abandon me to our parents’ wrath over some vegetables!” Finn protested.

“I really like salads.” 

“Kurt,” Finn whined.

“If I were you I’d start driving,” Kurt declared. “Every second we’re still here is a second more to be used against you.”

“I cannot believe you,” Finn muttered, even as he started the engine.

Kurt kept his face averted, hoping that the teen beside him would not notice the broad grin on his face as he enjoyed letting him suffer for a little bit.


	13. Chapter 13

Burt sighed, the sound disrupting the quietness of his dark bedroom. He sat up, allowing the covers to drop as he wondered, not for the first time in the past half hour or so, why, after a hard day's work, his mind refused to relax itself enough to allow him to have some much deserved rest. It wasn't as if anything had gone wrong today – well excluding Carole's panicked call after coming home to an empty house. But even that had not even been that much of an issue in the end; she'd eventually found Finn's note on the table, and their worry had shifted into how best to strangle their son for being so impulsive.

And those plans had been forgotten almost immediately when Kurt, with the largest smile they had seen in a long time walked through the front door. Scolding Finn had been forgotten in the midst of listening to Kurt's jubilant explanation of their day. And so, Burt knew that he had no need to worry about any member of his family, not tonight at least, and yet, his mind insisted on keeping him from much coveted rest. He was tempted briefly to poke at Carole until she woke up, but she had two consecutive night shifts coming up soon and he knew that she needed as much rest as she could manage. And so, he stood, and after rearranging the covers carefully around her, padded out of his bedroom, forgoing a robe.

He headed automatically to Kurt's bedroom, a habit they had all picked up recently. He wasn't too surprised to find the room empty, and, Burt ruefully supposed, this would not be one of those nights where he just sat there watching his son sleep. He would settle for checking in with Finn, he decided, before fixing himself a night cap. That, he hoped, would lull him into much coveted sleep. Closing Kurt's door and taking the few footsteps that would put him in front of Finn's, he opened the door without knocking, lest he wake a slumbering Kurt. It was nearing one in the morning, far too late for Kurt to be up, but he could never be certain with Finn.

This time though, he found Finn fast asleep, sprawled over the covers of his bed, snoring peacefully. Burt chuckled at the sight, though his amusement faded quickly as he realised that there was no second, considerably smaller figure squeezed onto a portion of the bed. Finn was alone, and with Kurt's bedroom empty, Burt felt his stomach twist slightly. Where was his biological son?

He forced his mind to calm down as he closed Finn's bedroom door. Kurt could very well just be in the bathroom. Except, the bathroom was empty, and so, a bit more panicked now, Burt hurried down the stairs, his eyes widening when he found the living room deserted as well. He huffed out a relieved breath a moment later though when he caught sight of the light coming from the kitchen. Shaking his head at his unnecessary panic, he slowly walked into the kitchen half expecting to see Kurt midway through a slice of pie. Instead he found his son sleeping, head way too near a half drunk glass of milk. What stood out more to him though were the papers scattered about the paper. Burt swore softly; had Finn told him or had Kurt just stumbled upon them while rummaging through the drawers?

Letting him sleep for now, Burt gathered up the materials and took away an empty plate he found beneath an envelope. He poured himself a glass of water and sipped at it carefully as he considered what he should do, or if he really needed to do anything. If Finn's actions had proved anything at all, it was that, perhaps, they really could take off the kid gloves when it came to dealing with Kurt, at least on some matters. If their adventure from today was anything to go by, beneath that shirking demeanour Kurt now sported was his old son. And, maybe the best way to coax that part of him back into existence was to treat him as if he wasn't some lost lamb that needed constant care and protection.

Yes, he knew that Kurt needed to be coddled at times, but, maybe it was time to let him set those parameters for himself? His swift recovery after the 'incident' with Finn's borrowed sling, and the fact that he seemed to be sleeping blissfully despite the Dalton papers he had found him with proved that. His and Elizabeth's boy, the same one who had struggled for independence from the time he had had any sort of control of his tiny body as a baby was still there, buried beneath the pain of what had happened. It was time to give that boy a chance to emerge once again.

Decision made, Burt drained the remainder of his water before moving to where Kurt lay slumbering.

"Wake up son," he said, keeping his voice at a moderate level. "You'll get a crick in your neck if you spend the night down here."

It took a good few repetition of Kurt's name though for the boy to groan, before, reluctantly opening his eyes. Burt smiled at him as he blinked at him owlishly. "Daddy?"

"Yeah bud. You wanted a midnight snack?"

"Wanted to read more about Dalton," he answered, yawning as he sat up. After a second his eyes widened and he corrected, "I was…hungry?"

Burt chuckled. "Nice try, but I already saw the papers."

"I slept walked them over here," Kurt tried again.

Burt rolled his eyes. "Finn's not in trouble bud," he reassured him as he claimed a seat for himself. "Do you want to talk about it or do you just want to head up to bed?"

Kurt's mouth twisted for a moment before he said. "It's a school full of boys."

"Well mannered boys from all we've heard," Burt responded. "And the school has literally had not a single incident that's red flag worthy in the past fifteen years."

"You're sure of that?"

"Positive," Burt told him. "We saw the records."

"From the Kentwood guy?"

"You really did go through everything didn't you?" Burt couldn't help but ask. Just how long had he been down here?

"Do you want me to go there?"

"I want you to consider it as an option," Burt said carefully. "It really is a good opportunity all around."

"Sounds like it," he agreed. "Full ride scholarships aren't something to sniff at."

"Yeah," Burt agreed, a bit surprised by how...smoothly the conversation was going. Perhaps he had made the right decision.

"I heard about Dalton before," Kurt stated after a moment. "They...they joined the show choir circuit." Kurt's lips pursed at that, and Burt took it for what it was, a sign of Kurt's discomfort. "I decided to research them; know your enemy sort of thing," he continued eventually. "It's like a Hogwarts in Ohio."

Burt chuckled at the description. "You'd board over my dead body though," he said seriously and Kurt's lips twitched at that.

"It's far," he reminded him.

"It's not an impossible commute," Burt replied. "Between you and me, I travelled a lot further than that every weekend when I first met your mom."

"Really?"

"Yeah, nearly four hours one way. Sometimes I wouldn't even get to spend more than an hour with her, not that it mattered. It was well worth it."

"And you think Dalton would be worth it?" Kurt asked.

"Maybe."

"Finn said home schooling was my other option, that maybe you guys would prefer that option?"

"I did," Burt admitted, "but that was before if I'm honest."

"Before what?" Kurt inquired.

"Before your little adventure today."

Kurt eyed him curiously. Burt fidgeted for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain how he felt. "Yesterday, hell, this morning Kurt, I wasn't sure I would ever be comfortable with letting you get far away from me again. Not after what happened. Because of that, I thought that home schooling was the best thing for you."

"What changed?" Kurt asked curiously. "The look on your face when you got back here," Burt admitted. "Kid, you looked happy, and just...lighter. Like if you got something out of that trip besides all those calories from what Finn fed you."

"Don't remind me," Kurt grumbled.

Burt smirked at that. "What I'm saying bud, is that maybe you need to be out an about."

"At Dalton?"

"Maybe? The school's a good place Kurt, if the people in it are anything to go by. They have had no need to be as nice and helpful to us as they have been, but they are. It's a bit shocking to me, even now. It that's how welcoming and accommodating they are to us now, I can't help but think how great it'd be for you if you were actually there."

Kurt nodded. "But my arm..."

"They've handled cases of extra-ordinary students before," he said and Kurt, despite his contemplative mood smiled a bit at that. Trust his dad to find a way around referring to his condition as being special. "They're willing to work with your schedule, even if that means you missing some days of school a week."

"They are?" Kurt said, surprised.

"Yes. It'd mean you doing a bit of work during breaks and stuff to keep up, but it's doable. And you never know, you may make some new friends. But, most importantly, I don't want to make a decision for you Kurt, especially not in something this important, but I want you to think about it as a serious option. You can go there, try it for a bit and if you don't like it, we can figure something else out. Or, you can make the decision to not try, and we'll look into home-schooling. It is your choice Kurt."

"It's our decision," Kurt corrected, meeting his gaze. "Something this big...it should involve all of us."

"Well technically all of us know about it," Carole said, surprising the both of them.

She was standing in the entrance of the kitchen, her robe tucked around her. "Two of my boys are not where they belong," she half-joked as she walked into the room, and claimed a seat. "Since your dad never mentioned that he was going to tell you about Dalton, I'm assuming that this is Finn's doing?"

"Don't be mad at him."

"I'm not," she reassured him smiling softly at the show of protectiveness. "But we all have talked about this already Kurt. Oh don't shoot me that look," she tsked when he frowned. "We did what we thought was best for you at the time. But, your dad is right. It does come right down to what it is that you want. And, no matter what that decision of yours is, we will stand by you."

Kurt was silent for a moment. "Do I have to decide now?"

"No you don't," she reassured.

"Okay," he responded. "I'll think about it. And, I think I need to talk to Finn about this too."

"Oh?"

Kurt nipped at his lip briefly before speaking. "the scholarship is for him too right? He says that he'll go with me for my protection. But, if I have to do what is best for me, it is only fair that the same thing applies to Finn right? He should do what's best for him?"

"He should," Carole agreed.

"He is his own person," Burt added.

"I know," he responded, "and he should. I know you all want what is best for me, but, I also want what is best for all of us, but in this, especially him."


	14. Chapter 14

The sun had just about set now, and his room was mostly dark, save from the glow of the nearby street light, but Kurt didn't really feel up to leaving his comfortable spot to address the situation. He had already closed the window in the face of the chilly winter air; that was more than enough. He sighed, turning his face a bit as he heard a peal of laughter from outside. He smiled absentmindedly as he saw Katy, the little girl from down the street, running away from her father who was making grabby-hands at her. It was refreshing to see such unadulterated happiness, and he hoped that she would retain that for as long as possible.

His smile faded slightly as he recalled a next person he knew who was happy – Finn. He had been ecstatic when he had come home, with a brightness to his eyes and a thousand-watt smile on his face that had caused Kurt's heart to clench painfully even as he tried ineffectively to bat away Finn's hand from ruffling his hair. He couldn't blame his brother though; in his own words his day of examinations had been a success. It seemed like Finn had finally realised that studying actually had a useful purpose. While he had admitted that he wasn't certain if he had answered all of his essay questions with the depth they required, he had, at least, been familiar with every single topic that had presented itself to him. That was a far cry from the norm, and had impressed all of them.

But, it was more than his joy at his potential examination results. Kurt knew for a fact that Finn had been so happy because he had been at McKinley. His elation at having to spend time with Mr. Shuester was undeniable, and, he had even come across Quinn and Sam once he had finished everything and had gone off with them for a bite to eat before he had come home. As far as Kurt knew, Finn hadn't really spoken to them, to anyone for a few weeks now, and while he knew that Finn would deny it, Kurt was certain that he missed them.

That realisation had instantly put him into a contemplative mood, and with Finn and his father watching sports on the television downstairs, and Carole at work, he was free to just lose himself in his thoughts. From the start he had found the whole deal with Dalton, especially Finn's part in it, a bit iffy. He knew a lot more about the school than he had let on to his father – to anyone really. A random fact search early in the school year had led to him obsessively reading anything about the school he could find. Once he had exhausted the school's official website, he had googled the school generally and had spent hours pouring over pictures, chats, anything he could find that would just tell him a bit more about the institute.

The school seemed like little more than a dream for someone like him who had endured so much torment and bullying in his own school. The school had extensive policies, it actually gave equal emphasis and regard to all the various disciplines, and all were respected. There had and probably would never be a moment where a club would have to worry about continued funding or fear facing being ostracised simply because of their interests. The school was like on oasis, and one that Kurt had kept guarded to himself. He had never ever even let himself imagine himself at the place, simply because he knew that there was no way in hell it could happen. That oasis needed a hell of a lot of money for maintenance, more than he could ever even start to expect his father to pay for him. There was a price for safety and security, and Kurt had always known that the Hummels would never be able to afford it.

And now the opportunity to go was literally laid out for him, for him and his brother, and all he had to do was say yes. And that was the issue. He had the final say. He didn't like it, hadn't liked it from the first moment he had started to emerge from the fog that had descended upon his existence. He hadn't given it too much credence outside of the rant he had gotten into with Finn, but despite his conversation with Carole afterwards, and the apology he had given to Finn, he hadn't forgotten what he had felt in that moment, nor what he had said. He had meant it. His family shouldn't and didn't need to put their lives on hold because of him. He didn't want that, he would never want that, and, while he appreciated their love and their desire to keep him safe, it couldn't keep coming with the sacrifices they were making.

And, it seemed to him as if Finn was prepared to make the greatest sacrifice of them all for his sake; he was prepared to permanently say goodbye to a friendship group he had developed for years for his sake. He was prepared to give up football, the sport he truly loved for his sake. He knew that Dalton offered basketball, something that Finn played outside of football season, but he also knew that his brother didn't care for the sport as much. Basketball was just a way for him to maintain his fitness levels without having to become one of the gym rats. It wasn't fair for Finn to force himself into that sporting discipline for his sake. Plus there was the fact that Dalton lacked girls. Sure there was a sister school, but direct interschool interactions were only allowed for mutually shared clubs during the week and on weekends. Except, neither of them would be dorming there if they both went which mean that the opportunities for them to participate in anything (not that Kurt wanted to) was slim to none.

Finn coming to Dalton would literally be his brother switching schools to babysit him, and Finn didn't need that. Finn didn't deserve that. Finn deserved a life of his home, a better life than the one he would have if he followed his misguided desires and allowed himself to be dragged to Westerville with him. And, while Kurt knew how great it would be to have a new school and his brother, he couldn't be selfish. If Finn's facial expression when he had gotten home was any indication, he was best off in Lima at McKinley with the actual friends he had and the club activities he loved doing. That was what was best for him, and that was truly what Kurt wanted him to have.

He would just have to find a way to convince him that that was the case.

*

Finn didn't bother to knock on Kurt's door before entering, not wanting to risk waking him up in case he had fallen asleep. The game had lasted a lot longer than expected, and Kurt tended to drift off easily these days. As a result, he was actually surprised to see Kurt seated at his desk, a frown on his face as he determined traced letters on the page of his workbook. Finn stared, perplexed. His mother had mentioned starting Kurt on the activity earlier that day, but she had also mentioned that Kurt had reacted badly to it at first, and, for all his good intentions, had sulked his way through it until she had given in and allowed him to stop. So, it was a bit surprising now to find him working so diligently on it.

"Doing okay bud?" he asked, leaning against the door.

Kurt looked up at him, and Finn's lips quirked as he realised that he had mistaken Kurt's expression. That hadn't been concentration on his face, that had been pure frustration.

"Are you here to save me from this hell?" Kurt deadpanned, as he slapped his pencil down on the table.

Hiding his amusement, Finn entered the room, and rested his hands on Kurt's shoulders as he stared at the book. Kurt had been working on the letter L, something that, he supposed, should have been quite easy. It couldn't be that hard to draw short straight lines, right? Apparently it was if the crooked messes Kurt had made all over was anything to go by.

"You'll get it," he told him encouragingly, squeezing down on his shoulders. "But why are you working on this so late anyway?" he couldn't help but ask. "You did two pages with mom earlier right?"

Kurt was silent for a moment, and, from experience, Finn knew that that meant that he was trying to find the best way to deflect the question. Finn pulled back, and, gripping the chair arms for a few seconds so that Kurt would realise what he was doing, he eased the chair out and turned it so that he could see Kurt's face.

"Talk to me," he urged, sitting on the edge of Kurt's bed. "What's going on in Kurt's head tonight?"

He half-expected Kurt to glare at him for his slightly patronising tone, but, instead, Kurt only lifted his head briefly to shoot him a morose look before diligently studying his hands again. "You won't be happy," he mumbled.

"Well we won't know that until you tell me," he responded calmly, even as his mind raced over the possibilities. What ideas could have possibly gone through Kurt's head in the past few hours to garner this? "Do you want to talk to your dad?" Finn offered when Kurt remained silent.

He shook his head slightly in response.

"Do you want to tell me what this is about?"

"School."

Finn nodded despite the fact that Kurt couldn't see him, his mouth twisting as he processed his answer. If Kurt wanted to talk about school and believed that he wouldn't be happy with his response on top of that, it could only mean one thing. With a mild smile, Finn said, "We're going to Dalton, aren't we?"

He expected Kurt to nod at that, or even look up at him in surprise at his guess. What he didn't expect was for Kurt to immediately let out a loud sob before his entire frame started shaking. Startled, Finn reached out, hoping that Kurt was comfortable enough with him to not need warning before he pulled his out of the chair and to him. He hugged Kurt tightly, his mind racing even as he strived to comfort him.

"It'll be okay kiddo," he whispered to him, as he wondered if this could be considered a normal emotional reaction or if he should subtly or otherwise indicate to their parents that maybe it was time to whip out a stronger dose of Kurt's pills for that night.

"It won't," Kurt protested, in between sobs, his voice muffled against Finn's chest. "You'll hate me."

"I will never do that," Finn said firmly, and rested his chin on top of Kurt's head. "Let's get you calmed down and then we'll talk about it."

It took a long time to calm him down, and even then, after they had resettled themselves, this time on the window seat, Finn was loathe to restart the conversation because it was clear to him that it would not take too much more to start the tears again.

"Finn?" Kurt said, in a soft, questioning tone.

"Yeah kiddo?"

He smiled slightly at that, and it was only then that Finn realised that Burt's nicknames for his son had become a permanent part of his own repertoire. He found that he didn't really mind it in the least.

Kurt nipped on his lip for a moment. "I want to go to Dalton."

"That's fine, Kurt," Finn told him. "We'll do that." He frowned a moment later when Kurt's eyes started watering again. "Bud?

"I don't want you to come," he said then, and in that moment, Finn felt as if all the air had been knocked out of him.

*

Burt realised something was wrong the moment he entered the kitchen to start breakfast, only to find Finn standing at the stove, carefully manoeuvring a pancake out of the skillet. Now that in itself was an unusual occurrence – Finn usually only attempted to cook whenever there was truly no other options available, and even then he would usually slap together a sandwich and call it a meal. But, when he turned slightly and Burt saw the conflicted expression on his face, he realised that perhaps the activity was a form of therapy for him.

"What's going on son?" Burt asked.

Finn flinched slightly. Despite his heavy footsteps, it seemed as if his step-son had truly been lost in a world of his own thoughts.

"Kurt made a decision," Finn answered, as he poured more batter into the pan.

"Dalton," Burt concluded. He supposed that that would explain Finn's mood. He and Carole both knew that he had wanted Kurt to go the route of home-schooling. "Look Finn, I know it's not exactly what you wanted, but we did agree that Dalton would be a wonderful opportunity for Kurt, for the both of you."

"He doesn't want me to come," Finn said, looking over his shoulder.

Burt gaped. Out of any response he could have expected from Finn, that had not been it. "What?"

"My reaction exactly," Finn responded, a bit of humour shining through briefly. "I'm not sure if this is really what he wants though."

"Did he explain himself?"

"Oh he did," he responded as he poured in the last of the batter. "He doesn't think that attending Dalton would be fair to me. That I'd be giving up too many things to be there for him, and that maybe if he ever wants to be strong again he's got to learn how to stand on his own two feet."

Burt was silent for a long moment as he contemplated what his son had said. It was a difficult thing to process. It was true that, when Kentwood had told them that two spots could be opened at Dalton for them, he and Carole had been more than a little excited. Neither of them in the least had liked the idea of Kurt being so far away from them in his sensitive stage, and alone at that, and so, Finn accompanying him would have been a great solution for that issue. But, they had also acknowledged that for Finn to attend there would put a real damper on any possibility of him pursuing football as a career post-high school, and while neither knew if his childhood dreams still influenced him strong enough that he would want to seek that out, neither wanted him to feel obligated to give that dream away for Kurt. Supporting one's family was one thing, but it wouldn't do to hurt oneself too badly in the process.

"And what did you say?" he asked, trying not to colour his opinion by giving his own thoughts on the matter just yet.

"Well I may have reacted badly and told him that I thought he was being ridiculous," Finn responded, "and that I didn't tell him about Dalton for him to turn around and make the worst decision possible."

Burt sighed, but, before he could respond, Finn continued speaking.

"I know that that wasn't the best response ever," he acknowledged, "but for a moment he glared at me Burt, and I saw the old Kurt, the one who wasn't afraid to show exactly how idiotic he thought I could be. I think it was worth it," he finished proudly before growing serious once again. "What should we do?"

"I don't know," Burt admitted. "I think I need to talk to your mom first about this, and then with Kurt. If Kurt truly wants this, and I mean for the right reasons, it wouldn't be fair for us to tell him no."

"But what if it's the wrong decision?"

"That isn't something we can predict," Burt finished sadly. "But I have a question for you Finn, and I think that's going to really decide how we address this."

"What is it?" he inquired.

Burt gave him a serious look. "Tell me the truth here son. Do you want to go to Dalton? Or are you really just doing this so Kurt can have a second shot?"

Finn didn't answer, but the expression on his face told the bald man all he needed to know. He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Maybe Carole and I should stay out of this for a while," he said contemplatively. "Because it seems that both you and Kurt need to figure out exactly what it is that the two of you want before we take any other steps here."


	15. Chapter 15

Despite the fact that temperatures were dropping lower with each passing day, Kurt was in the backyard, laying down on the damp grass as he stared up at the desolate sky. There wasn't any particular reason for it. Inside had just felt too stuffy, too stifling and out here promised breeze and freedom. He inhaled deeply, crinkling his nose when his nostrils stung a bit at the action. It still wasn't enough to get him to go in though; with the blanket he had dragged out here on top of him, he would be alright for a long while. His mind was blank for once, and, as the clouds parted enough to give the sun a bit of presence Kurt found it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open, and so, with a comfortable hum, he closed them, but for only a moment.

He gasped then, when, after a 'second', the smell of chocolate assaulted him. Opening his eyes, he saw Finn seated beside him, two steaming cups in his hands.

"When did you get here?" he asked, surprised, as he sat up.

"Oh don't look at me like that," Finn scoffed, handing one to him. "It's not my fault you decided to tempt pneumonia out here. Really Kurt, we have beds inside for sleeping."

Kurt ignored the gentle ribbing, and instead pointedly sipped at the mug, smiling when the rich taste assaulted his taste-buds. They sat quietly, neither talking until the mugs had been drained and set aside on the grass.

"You know, I've been thinking," Finn said, pulling at some blades of grass, "about what you said to me, and what Burt said."

"What did daddy say?"

"He asked me if I really wanted to go to Dalton in the first place, or if it was just because I wanted to be there to protect you."

Kurt's breath hissed at that, and he stared at him expectantly. "I told you not to enrol," Kurt reminded him.

"And I told you I would do what was best for you," Finn returned levelly.

Kurt parted his lips to respond, but his brother spoke before he could. "I think that your dad may be right," he told him. "I shouldn't go to Dalton just to protect you."

"Good."

"But I want to put that question right back to you," Finn said, watching him firmly.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, hesitantly.

Finn met his gaze. "Do you want to go to Dalton Kurt? Or are you doing this just because you think it'd make our lives easier?"

Kurt was silent for a moment. "Me going to Dalton wouldn't make your lives easier," he admitted. "It's not like I can drive there so it means that one of you will have to take me back and forth and that's so far away. It'll mean I'm so far away as well, and I know that you guys will be worried about me."

"But?"

"But Dalton also seems like a really great place Finn, and I don't know if I'll do well there, but they're willing to help me so much. That has to count for something right?"

"It does," Finn agreed. "And it is a great school."

"It is, and Finn, it's not like I don't want you there with me. Don't you think I wouldn't jump at the chance to have you with me there? To know that I wouldn't be alone? But it's not fair to you if it's not something you really want, and it won't be fair to me to depend on you like this."

"Kurt-"

"Finn you came back here so happy the other day," Kurt interrupted. "I know McKinley isn't perfect, but you love that school. You have a life there Finn, but I've never really fit in. But you shouldn't have to leave the people who care about you. You shouldn't have to start over as well."

"There are people who care about you there too Kurt."

"Not enough," Kurt contradicted. "This has showed me that more than anything else," he mentioned, gesturing at his arm. "I thought I had friends, but friends stand up for you right? Friends don't just watch you get hurt and not do anything about it. Friends don't forget to mention that practice gets moved and then don't come to get you when they realise you aren't there. And teachers shouldn't know you're being bullied and not do anything about it, and a school damn well shouldn't discipline you for getting hurt because they failed to prevent it."

"You found out about that?" Finn guessed.

Kurt nodded. "I read the newspapers online," he responded. "You guys have really kept a lot from me."

"For your own good," Finn protested.

Kurt nodded. "I'm not accusing you all of anything," he explained. "And honestly, I'm glad I didn't know about some of it. I'm sure there are a lot of things I still don't know and that I don't want to know. But what I do know is that if Figgins really is going to get kicked out permanently, then things at McKinley can change, and for the better. I wouldn't want you back there either if that wasn't the case. I wouldn't want you taking flack for me. But if things are better, better for you at least, why should you give that up for me? Why should you give up sports for me? I don't want that for you."

"But what do you want for yourself?" Finn rebutted. "You wanting the best for me is fine, and I appreciate that, but is you being on your own there best for you?"

"I don' think I'll know that until I'm there," Kurt responded, his voice cracking briefly.

"That's the penny in the air," Finn agreed, flopping backwards onto the grass, Kurt mimicking him. "You realise it sounds like we've really decided that I'm not going to Dalton," he pointed out.

"I know," Kurt murmured, rolling onto his side.

"Sure you won't do home-schooling?" Finn half-joked.

Kurt only smiled slightly at that. "How about we compromise?"

"Compromise?" Finn repeated, curiously.

"One week," he offered. "I'll try for one week, and if it's truly not somewhere I want to be, I'll do home-schooling, no complaints."

Finn was silent for a moment, thinking it over. "I can live with that," he said slowly. "Things don't seem so definite then, you know? It still feels like we have an option."

"Yeah," Kurt responded softly, as he twisted away, looking up to the sky again, hoping that he was making the right decision, and asking the universe if it could be kind enough to him that Dalton would really be the type of safe haven it promised to be.

After that day in the backyard, things progressed quickly from there. Kurt was quite happy with letting his parents take control of the situation past there. He had made his decision, but he really didn't care to be involved in all the in-betweens. He had a meeting with the teacher who had first introduced himself, Brian Kentwood, and while he had spent a good few minutes of that initial meeting pressed beside his father, by the end of it he felt cautiously optimistic. There was a level of genuineness to the man that he had rarely experienced before, and once he heard the story about the man's son, his mind was cemented.

Dalton would continue to prove itself to him and the entire family beyond that meeting. Skype meetings had been arranged, both between Kurt and Mr. Kentwood, but with other teachers as well who needed to assess him. He had been nervous and fumbled a lot but they had all been so patient and encouraging that Kurt had felt his nerves relax. By the end of it he had tested into two classes above his year, and, as Mr. Kentwood happily informed him, he would undoubtedly come to latch on to the distraction school offered him.

On Finn's side things had also adjusted smoothly as well. Sue Sylvester became permanent in the role of principal and her new no-nonsense approach had been enough to convince Carole that Finn would be fine to return. The principal had, in a surprising show of emotion apologised to them all, wishing only the best for Kurt, and swore that she would ensure that what happened to him would never reoccur again. Of course, once Finn returned to the school, he would realise that her new role would not stop her from tormenting the glee club, but that was largely a matter between her and Mr. Shuester and so it was tolerable. The school had indeed changed, and so, Finn knew that he had made the right decision to return, even though occasionally in the future, when his new found maturity created a divide between him and his friends, he would question if he should have really made the leap to Dalton as well.

*

Kurt hesitated in front of the Navigator, looking up at the long path to the school's main building. His parents and Finn were beside him as well, observing him.

"So we're really doing this then?" Burt asked lightly, breaking the quietness that had descended upon them.

"I think we are," Carole agreed, even as she fussed with the edge of Kurt's collar straightening it.

"Do you remember where you're going?" Finn asked Kurt, even as he adjusted his brother's bag on his shoulder.

"Yes," Kurt answered, looking up at him. "Mr. Kentwood's waiting for me in the administrative office. I remember the way."

"That's good," Carole said. "Do you want us to walk you there?"

Kurt bit his lip at the suggestion. A part of him wanted to scream that yes, he wanted them to walk with him, and to stay for the entire day, but the larger part knew that if they came with him, he would be far less likely to stay. He needed to do this on his own, or else he would never survive here, but at the same time... He wasn't sure how to put his feelings into words though, but Finn took the decision from him.

"Oh come on mom," he groaned, poking her. "Kurt's too old for his parents to drop him at the school door. His brother on the other hand…I think that's perfectly fine. Right Kurt?"

Finn grinned down at him, and Kurt felt the tension in him bleed out a bit at that. He smiled up at him and nodded. "Finn can walk me," he agreed.

Burt groaned lightly beside him. "These two have finally realised there's power in numbers," he grumbled moving to his wife and wrapping a hand around her waist. "Do you think we're ever going to win a battle against them now?"

"We'll just have to gang right back up on them," she agreed. "Okay you two, go on then. We've got to head back to Lima soon so that Finn's not late."

"Okay."

After a few words and hugs from each of them, Kurt allowed Finn to wrap his arm around his shoulder, and slowly they started ambling up the pathway.

"Two weeks, remember?" Finn said as they walked. "After we'll re-evaluate this."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed.

"And don't forget you can call me anytime. Call any of us actually, and if anyone even looks at you the wrong way find Kentwood until we can get here."

"I doubt that'll happen."

"Yeah well I won't trust these preppy boys just yet," Finn grumbled.

Kurt smiled slightly at that, and leant a bit closer against Finn until the school building neared them. He looked up briefly as they approached before focussing on his brother who was also taking it in. "Well, we're here," he said unnecessarily.

"We are," Finn agreed, looking down at him, as he released his hold of him. "How are you feeling?"

"Nervous. Scared. Hopeful?"

"Hopeful is good," Finn agreed, as he removed Kurt's bag and looped it over his neck.

"I can do this Finn," Kurt said then, forcing his voice to sound firm. "Everyone's nice here. I think I'll be okay."

"I think you will be as well," Finn answered softly. "But for my sake text me lunchtime?"

Kurt chuckled at that, but nodded. "I will."

"Okay," Finn nodded, taking a deep breath. "I should go now."

Kurt nodded at that, breathing deeply as well. The moment had come and it felt so real. "I'll be fine Finn," he said. "Go." Before I change my mind, he added silently.

It took a few seconds more, but finally, Finn nodded, and, adjusting his bag one more time, walked away. Kurt couldn't help him, but he stood there long after Finn's letterman jacket disappeared out of view. He felt alone suddenly, isolated, and for a moment he panicked, wondering if he had made the right decision, trying to decide if he could reach them in time if he ran as fast as he could.

"Kurt?"

He spun around at the call of his name, his eyes widened slightly from his panicked thoughts. Mr Kentwood was standing there at the building's entryway, observing him.

"Mr. Kentwood," he all but breathed, feeling slightly better at the familiar face.

The man seemed to understand what he was experiencing because he approached him quickly, a comforting expression on his face. "You're not alone here Kurt," he told him gently. "And there is absolutely nothing you have to fear."

"Are you sure?" he couldn't help but ask, his tone vulnerable.

"I'm sure," he reassured. "But there's no rush remember? How about we just get you into the office for now? Don't even worry about going to class yet. Baby steps; we'll get you there."

Kurt searched the man's eyes for a long moment, and nodded when he saw the absolute surety there. He would have to put a bit of trust in the man if this was going to work. "Okay," he agreed, straightening himself. "Let's do this."

*

Finn glanced back once as he walked away, just to ensure that Kurt seemed okay. He was as far as he could tell, and so, he forced himself not to give in to the desire to just scoop him up and carry him back to where safety was assured. Kurt wanted to do this, and all of them needed to start giving him the chance to do so. He wasn't an invalid, and he was right, it was about time that they stopped trying to decide and manage every bit of his life. They had to let him try to do this.

His gaze lifted to the building, and his eyebrows rose slightly as he caught sight of a few boys in the window looking down at where Kurt was. His mouth twisted, when they continued to stare down at Kurt, but, he let it go after a moment. From here on out, he would have to trust that Dalton would do all that it promised for Kurt. That they would help change his life for the better.

And the school would do that, helping Kurt achieve more than they would ever think possible. But, as he continued on his journey back to their parents, Finn could never have known the difference that that group of boys would make for Kurt, and in particular the one with gel in his hair who lingered the longest, staring at Kurt until finally, he moved away out of sight.


End file.
